


My King: Henry V

by sangoamaya



Category: Henry V - Shakespeare, Hollow Crown (2012), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Multi, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 65,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangoamaya/pseuds/sangoamaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on BBC’s The Hollow Crown and Tom Hiddleston, that’s why.  A story about how a brave commoner saved a King’s life and how her whole life changed. She never asked for any of this yes? Story not historically accurate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The newly crowned king sighed as he gently caresses the withered cheeks of his mother. Mary de Bohun had collapsed unknowingly before the coronation. She had not been able to lift herself from her bed ever since. Heaving, she gently wrapped her wispy fingers around her son’s.

“You must be willing to let me go,” she whispered.

“No. I’ll find this enchanted spring. I’ll make you well once more.”

Mary smiled wistfully and gently clenched her son’s hands. “Then you must promise that you will come back to me safely.”

“I promise mother.”

* * *

 

Studying the map that was given to him, Henry quietly took note of the landmarks that they have to pass before reaching the edge of the kingdom. The enchanted spring will be there. Rumours had it that gypsies guard the spring, not allowing anyone close to it. _Well,_  he thought,  _gypsies or not, I am going to go against you._

As the king swung his armoured leg over his steed, he looked to the right and addressed his men.

“Today we embark on a journey. Not of war, but of love. This enchanted spring will be the saviour of my mother and I will not allow myself and any of you to fail.”

The king’s men bowed their heads, acknowledging their king’s command.

And with that, Henry steered his horse and charged forward.

* * *

 

The journey to the edge of the kingdom was an arduous one. Not only did they encounter wild beasts, the journey was taking too long. Again and again they made a wrong turn.

_I refuse to this forest be the death of me,_  thought Henry.

Unknowing to the king and his men, a group of dark ones had been observing them from the treetops. Sensing the king’s exasperation, the leader, signalled to the others.

“AAARRRGHH!” The dark ones bellowed as they jump from the menacing trees unto the knights.

The clashing sounds of the swords against armour was thunderous, with the horses caught off-guard, they neighed and stomped their hooves. One by one the king’s soldiers were slain by the dark ones.

Snapping her head up, a raven-haired maiden was sure she heard battle cries. Dropping her basket full of midnight mushrooms, she reached for her bow and arrow. The clanging of formidable metal grew louder as she quickened her pace.

_That flag_ , she thought.  _The flag of the king!_

The maiden rushed forward and hurriedly placed an arrow to her bow. She took aim and released. Bull’s eye! Surprised by the sudden attack, the dark ones fumbled. Without much thinking Henry wielded his sword and slayed one of them. Another arrow hit the dark one.

As the pace of the arrows quickened, Henry and several of his men that was left took advantage.

When the final dark one was slain, overwhelming silence engulfed Henry. He could only hear the thumping of his own heart and his own heaving. Still brandishing his sword, he wielded it once more – only to look directly into a maiden with a bow.

Taken aback by the maiden, Henry found himself crumpling to the floor, feeling the shooting pain in his abdomen. He had been struck there and did not notice due to the adrenaline rush. His sword had cluttered to the ground. He fought against the pain but it was too unbearable.

“I only come in peace!” The maiden cried. She carefully put her bow and arrows on the ground and held her hands up. She took a glance at the exhausted men and the injured king.

“My village is due northeast. We will nurse all of you. You have my word.”

The maiden gently washed the blood soaked cloth, before wringing it. She placed a clean cloth, laden with medicine onto the king’s wound.

She studied Henry’s face. She had never seen the king or any royal subjects for that matter. He lay there, unconscious and innocent. He was handsome, with sharp cheekbones, a slim nose and lips that were neither too thin nor luscious. She gently touched the wound to examine it and she could not help noticing the king’s taut muscles. Waving any inappropriate thoughts, she pressed the medicine laden cloth.

With a sharp, audible cringe, Henry’s hand shot straight up and grabbed her hand.

“I meant you no harm my lord.”

Henry focused on the woman sitting beside him in this dimly lit room. Her hair was definitely as dark as night, but her eyes! They were definitely of deep sapphire blue. The soft dancing flames from the candles made her fair skin look luminous.

“Who are you?” Henry croaked.

“My lord, you’re hurt.” The maiden spoke.

“I can tell by the searing discomfort,” Henry remarked sarcastically, his eyes never left hers.

Immediately realising she was causing him pain, the maiden lifted her hands from the king’s abdomen. Henry softened as fear flashed through her face. “How rude of me… Forgive me young maiden.”

She blinked at him. Sensing she was too afraid to speak, Henry said softly, “I still need to know who you are.”

“The name’s Aria, my Lord.”

Henry braced himself as he sat up slightly. “Aria, you say? That’s no English name.”

Aria gave a slight smile, “Whoever said I was English?”

“You don’t sound or look foreign…” Henry remarked.

Aria tilted her head slightly and nodded, “Born and bred in your kingdom, sire. But I am no descendant of Englishmen.”

Scrutinising his wound, Henry looked up, “What happened to my men?”

“I urge you not to worry, my king. The surviving few are being nursed as well.” Aria chucked the soiled cloth into the water-filled bowl and stood up to leave.

“Don’t leave me.”

Aria turned and faced the king. “Please. Aria. Stay with me.”

Not wanting to disobey him or further upset him, Aria placed the bowl on the side table and sat down.

“Thank you,” Henry managed as he reached for her hand. “…for nursing me.” He gave a gentle smile that made Aria’s heart flutter. Closing his eyes, surrendering to a slumber, he gently tugged her hand closer to his chest. 


	2. Chapter 2

The King woke up to the sound of birds chirping as sunlight greeted his eyes. Holding out a hand to block the brightness, he squirmed as he felt discomfort. As he started to remember where he was, the king scanned the room to look for the maiden. But she wasn’t there.

Bracing himself against the dull ache, he sat up and saw a set of clean clothes by the bed. Gingerly standing up, he started to dress.

Henry stepped out of the small hut and was greeted by villagers busy with their daily lives. Dressed in plain clothes, not many batted an eyelash for him.

 _This was different,_  he thought. He tugged at the annoying sleeves of the shirt before folding them up. As he walked further into the small settlement, more and more people started to realise who he was. They slowly stopped in their tracks and stared at him as he made his way towards Aria, who was feeding the horses.

_Finally, this is what I am used to. Being stared at._

Gently rubbing the steed’s head, Aria held out the bucket of grains to its hungry mouth. Sensing she was being watched, she turned.

He was much taller than she remembered and the hardened face of his seemed to be annoyed at something.

“I see that the clothes have fitted you ill,” she spoke softly.

“You don’t say,” Henry chided.

Aria smiled, amused. “You should be resting my Lord. Not walking about. You’ve scared some of the villagers.” She gestured at the staring villagers who were rooted at their spots.

“But I don’t scare you?” Henry studied her. She was much more beautiful in broad daylight. Her sapphire blue eyes and her luscious lips were much more prominent. She was slender and slim but she had desirable curves at all the right places.

Aria shook her head quietly as she put down the bucket of grains before approaching him. “I am not easily frightened, sire. If I was, you wouldn’t be alive.”

Henry gulped. So it was her. She saved them. Holding his head up high, Henry spoke, “Very well. Thank you for saving my life as well as my men’s.”

He hesitated, “Did you know who had attacked us?”

Aria furrowed her brows and pursed her lips, “Judging by their appearance, it must be the dark ones. Or at least that’s what we, villagers, call them.”

“The dark ones?” Henry contemplated. He had indeed heard of them. They were a formidable band of low lives that steal, kill and rape without caring for humanity. That somehow reminded him of his rebellion days.

“Have they been terrorising these areas?”

“Occasionally.” Aria snickered. “But they got scared after we started to fight back.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. Not only she is a beauty, she is a brave one. An irresistible, brave beauty.

“May I ask why the King of England and his knights were in the forest?”

Shaking his head in order to clear those inappropriate thoughts, Henry spoke, “We’re looking for the enchanted spring. It’s for my ailing mother.”

Aria dusted her hands, “Oh. We’ve heard. Then we must hurry. The enchanted spring is only half an hour by foot from here.”

“We can take the horses.”

“Not with your condition sire.” Arias hesitated, “Unless you become a pillion that is.”

Bewildered by her suggestion, Henry scoffed, “Me, the King of England, on a horse as a pillion?”

His voice was iron and intimidating but Aria was emotionless. “You’re not well enough to ride. It’s either that or by foot.”

 _What a stubborn woman_ , he thought. But she was right, his wounds were aching dully and he knew riding would just make the aches turn into blinding pain. He eyed his steed and then back to her. He decided he has too much pride to ride as a pillion. He IS the KING of England.

“By foot then.”

They carried 2 empty large canteens on their backs as they set out for the spring. Henry had insisted to bring along his sword as Aria, her bow and arrow. They walked into the wilderness in silence, with Henry following her lead.

Finally he broke the silence, “Rumours had it that the spring is guarded by gypsies.”

Chuckling lightly, Aria turned, “Gypsies? We may not be descendants of Englishmen sire, but we’re no gypsies.”

Henry furrowed his brow, “The village is made up of immigrants?”

“Not all of us my Lord. Some of our forefathers come from nearby kingdoms, for which ones exactly, I am not sure… I, for one, was told that my parents were from France.”

“Was told?” Henry probed.

“They died from the plague two months after I was born. I was considered the fortunate one who had survived.” Her voice has gone quieter as she spoke. Henry realised that he had caused her sadness. He reached for her hand and held onto it.

Surprised by the sudden gesture, Aria turned to look at him. Their eyes met and Aria could feel butterflies in her stomach. How can this man be arrogant and pompous and within a split second be gentle and concerned? It was bad enough the warmth emitting from his hand was comforting and those long fingers entwined with hers made her heart do somersaults.

“I refuse to lose my mother.” Henry announced. He broke away from the gaze, “I love her dearly. Losing my father was difficult enough.”

The sound of prickling water welcomed them as they approached the spring. Aria took off the canteen and reluctantly slipped her hand away from his. “At least you still have a mother.” She whispered. 

Aria crouched to the ground and gestured for him to come nearer. She took a handful of the spring’s water and held it out to his lips. “Drink this,” she coaxed him.

As Henry felt the water trickling down his throat, he began to sense his wounds healing. He stared at Aria in amazement as he touched his face that was no longer scarred and down to his front where the big gash was. He felt stronger and refreshed.

He gasped in excitement and grabbed hold of Aria’s hands. “It worked! The water worked its magic!”

She smiled at him as he held her gaze. He looked excited like a boy discovering a toy. The joy in his eyes was enough to make Aria’s heart race.

Having caught her eye, Henry inched closer, and gently nuzzled her nose. Aria held her breath.

“Aria… Have you ever been kissed before?”

“No, my King.”

And their lips met.


	3. Chapter 3

Henry cupped her soft cheeks as she began to reciprocate. He was fairly certain he had never kissed a pair of lips so sweet. He had wanted to feel those lips on his ever since he laid his eyes on her. His left hand trailed behind and pressed against the small of her back, pulling her closer.

Aria slowly pulled away from the kiss and opened her eyes. Who would have thought that her first kiss was with the King? Blood rushed to her cheeks, making it hot and flushed. Henry opened his eyes reluctantly, still entranced by the kiss. He watched Aria peeling his hands away.

Embarrassed, Aria turned away and picked up the empty canteen from the ground. She hurriedly filled it with the spring water. She refused to face the king. Oh the shame she felt. The king must have thought of her as a shameless whore for kissing him.

Sensing her discomfort, Henry approached her. “Aria….. I’m truly sorry for my actions.”

“It’s not your fault sire.” Aria capped the already full second canteen and handed it to the king. “There. We must head back to the village.” She swung the other canteen over her shoulders as she started to walk.

“Wait!” Henry quickened his pace to catch up with her. “Allow me…” He took the other canteen from her and swung it over his broad shoulders, Aria immediately wringed her hands, unsure of how to conduct herself.

Smiling widely, Henry faced her. “You shouldn’t be shy, my lady.”

Seeing how she was blushing, Henry stopped her. He brushed a lock of hair that has fallen across her beautiful face. Aria’s heart thumped loudly as his fingers made contact.

“You do realise that it was mutual.” Henry started. Aria worked her way around him and walked away. Determined to make out what she was thinking, Henry caught up with her.

“Please tell me what you’re thinking.” Aria ignored him quickening her pace. Exasperated, he ran in front of her and stretched out his arms. “My lady, I’m not a mind reader. I know not what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours!”

Taken aback by his stubbornness to pursue the matter and of course that sarcastic tone of his, Aria eyed at him angrily.

“Don’t you just get what happened back there?!”

“No! So please tell me if I had wronged you in any way!”

“You kissed me!”

“But you kissed me back!”

Feeling the loss for words, she glared at him. “Exactly. You! You made me!”

“No I did not,” Henry retorted. “One can’t just make another kiss him back without any sort of approval first from the lady herself.”

“Wh-?! Argh!” Aria stormed away from him.

“Don’t you dare walk away from your King!”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Aria whirled around, “I didn’t realise that my King was a pompous kissing toad!” she spat.

“Did yo-you, just refer to me, YOUR KING, as a toad?!” This woman, Henry thought. This woman had the nerve to call him a toad! But why did he feel like pulling her into his arms and kiss her passionately?

Aria held her head high. “Yes, I believe I just did!”

Bless her soul, Henry thought. Here he was - convinced that he was falling for her; and there she was - accusing him of such trickery.

He groaned as he watched her, almost running, towards the village. As soon as they reached, Aria grabbed hold of one of the canteens from Henry’s back and wrenched it from him, not caring if she was rough on him.

Aria carried the canteen over to the Masons’ hut where the injured knights had rested overnight. Confused and unsure of what to do, Henry strides over to field where the horses grazed. Sensing his master approaching, the white steed neighed.

“I miss you too boy.” The horse nipped him lightly. “Well at least you still love me.”

The horse rested its head on the King’s cheek briefly before breaking away to graze the grass.

“Your majesty!” called out one of the knights. Henry turned. “We seek your forgiveness your highness.”

“Whatever for?”

The knight gulped and lowered his gaze, “For being completely useless and endangering your life, sire.” Henry walked towards the knight and patted his back, “Nonsense. You did no such thing.”

“But, sire, you were almost killed.” Henry nodded, “Yes, but we’re alive are we not?”

The knight shrugged. “The crown has been cleaned and polished your highness. It’s resting in the maiden’s hut.”

Right. Now he has to face her again. She had just insulted him and the thought of punishing her never crossed his mind, although… Smiling snidely, he patted the knight’s shoulder again and headed where his crown had sat waiting for him.


	4. Chapter 4

Henry knocked slightly on the door. He waited for it to be opened but it didn’t. He knocked again. It was apparent that she was inside the hut, she’s just ignoring him. His jaw tensed as he decided that he should just use brute force. Henry took a step back and then threw his whole weight onto the vulnerable-looking door.

The door was indeed weak. It crashed down the floor, startling Aria. “Jesus!” She glared at him angrily.

Not feeling sorry, Henry straightened and gave her a cheeky smile. “Forgive me, my lady, you were keeping my rightful crown captive inside here.”

“You could have asked nicely,” Aria said through gritted teeth.

“I did. I knocked politely but you ignored me blatantly.” Aria continued to glare at him. Henry crossed the small space between them, “Besides, it is against the rules.”

His voice dropped and he purred, “When a King demands entry, thou shalt not ignore.” Their noses had touched and she could feel his warm breath on her lips as he spoke. Being too close to him makes her heart do things that she wished it didn’t do.

“I’ve never heard of such rules,” Aria whispered. “Well, you have now my lady.” Henry smirked slightly and carefully placed his hand on the small of her back, pressing her against him. He kissed the bridge of her nose lightly and Aria let out a gasp involuntarily.

Oh why did her body always betray her?! His bright blue eyes gleamed; satisfied at the effect he had on her. Henry leaned in and Aria quickly turned her face away from him, causing his lips to land on her cheeks. He snickered against her skin, nuzzled it before pulling away slightly.

“Well that was fun.” He released her and stride across the room, picking up the hollow gold crown. He admired how the jewels gleamed in the sunlight before placing it on his head, where it rightfully belongs.

He walked towards where the door had been and turned, “I’m coming back for you, my lady.”

He paused at the doorframe, studying her. He wanted to capture this image of her before he leaves.

“That, I promise.”

And the King left.

The journey back was a stark contrast to the one they had. The troop hurtled through the castle gates without delay. Dismounting their horses, Henry unlatched the canteen from his steed and hurriedly headed towards the north tower where his mother was.

He approached the bed, signalling the handmaidens to bring a goblet towards him. Henry tipped the canteen slightly to the goblet as Mary tried to sit up with some help. Her face was painfully pale and her breath sounded mangled. He edged closer towards her and reached for her frail fingers. Placing the goblet unto her lips, Henry squeezed her hand slightly.

For a moment the Dowager Queen hesitated as her son urged her to drink. She squeezed his hand in return as she gulped every last drop of the water. Henry waited with bated breath but saw no changes. Mary had slumped against her pillows, still weak. Frowning, he stood up, feeling rage bubbling. Mary looked at her son and reached for him.

“No, no. I feel better dear.”

Perhaps her illness was far too strong and she will need more time to heal. He nodded and ordered a handmaiden to keep the canteen.

“Give the Dowager Queen a gobletful of the water every quarter of the day.” She bowed, acknowledging his orders and went away.

Mary tugged at her son and smiled wistfully at him as he looked up. “How was the trip Hal?”

‘Hal’ was what the royal family had affectionately called him throughout the years. Even before his father was crowned King. Only God knows what this family had gone through. War, assassination plans, family feuds had engulfed them and now the burden of keeping peace throughout the kingdom and uniting the states were now on his shoulders.

Henry smiled gently, “It was an interesting one.” Before he could stop himself, he went on tell her about the trip; how they got lost in the forest, being attacked by the dark ones, saved by a maiden. At this point Mary stopped him. “A maiden you say?” Her eyes were wide with curiosity, sitting up to listen to her son’s story.

Henry, not noticing that his mother was sitting up, quipped “Yes! She was a brave one at that, a skilled archer too.”

He continued to describe Aria, talking about how she had nursed him, the encounter of the enchanted spring and how he had kissed her and teased her even. Mary chuckled as her son narrated how the maiden had insulted him and placed a hand on his cheek. He has always been a natural jester.

“Hal, stop! You’re making my sides ache!” Henry laughed at her reaction and it suddenly hit him.

“You’re sitting up straighter!” he exclaimed. Mary, not realising that, stared at him. Signalling for the handmaiden, Henry shouted, “It worked! I think it’s time for another dose!”


	5. Chapter 5

Aria tossed and turned in her bed that night. She was exhausted from pulling an all-nighter with the king. She rubbed her eyes and lay on her back. No matter how hard she tried to forget the incident earlier today, she could not ignore the effect he had on her.

 _Is this what physical attraction feels like?_  She thought.

Heart racing, sweaty palms, brain turning into a mush and an unfamiliar ache in the loins? She had never felt intensely for a man before. She always wondered what it was like to be kissed and listened curiously whenever married women flock to talk about matters behind closed doors even though she has no idea what she was listening to.

The only “romantic” encounter she had with a man was when Peter Gofric had asked her to accompany him to the horses’ field to take a look at one of his steeds. And of course Peter eventually married someone else in the village.

 _Oh how pathetic am I?_  She thought again.

No one ever looked at her the way the King did. His eyes showed desire mixed with softness. She couldn’t read his expression whenever he looked intently at her. When their eyes met, it was electric. Like something clicked into place and everything seemed right. She thought of him holding her hand in his and how good it was to feel needed and comforted.

_No, no, no. I’m just imagining everything. He’s just taking advantage of me! He’s the King! That’s what people with power do!_

Aria sighed and realised that she hadn’t changed the cover of the bed. She was lying on the same sheets that the King had slept on. Feeling frightened for no good reason, she shot up from the bed and frantically pulled at the cloth.

It is bad enough she almost thought of him inappropriately but to lie on the bed cover that has his scent on it! Goodness! Aria slapped her right palm to her forehead and muttered, “What have I subjected myself to?”

* * *

 

After assuring that Mary was fast asleep and tucked into bed, Henry made way to his chambers. Once inside, he shrugged off his clothes and kicked off his shoes before slipping into the large tub of clean water. He let out a sigh of content when the warmness of the water enveloped his body.

Henry ran his fingers lightly over his skin where the wound he had sustained was supposed to be. Only a thin white line served as a reminder. He closed his eyes, remembering Aria cleaning the wound and nursing it - her wispy fingers pressing over his skin lightly, afraid of hurting him. He remembered the way she was pressed against him, the taste of her lips when they kiss. He reluctantly opened his eyes and sat up straighter in the tub. Then he looked down.

_Oh great._

What did he expect ? He was obviously aroused. It has been quite some time since he had a woman. The death of Henry IV, the political unrest, his coronation, his ailing mother has kept him busy and no time for himself. He was torn between satisfying himself and just surrendering to exhaustion. He clicked his tongue.

 _To hell with it_ , he thought as he wrapped his fingers around his cock and started to stroke it.

He thought of Aria’s luscious lips as he picked up the rhythm. He longed to kiss her again, to let her lips devour him while he explore her body, caressing her skin. He imagined her eyes fluttering, gripping his shoulders and digging her nails into them as he pleasured her. He wanted her to tremble and writhe against him and have her surrendering herself to him as she peaked. When he finally climaxed and released, Henry leaned his head on the side of the tub, exhausted.

The next few days passed quickly. Mary was regaining her strength and she seemed happier and livelier. She was able to join Henry during feasts and visitations by the Beauforts who had helped Henry tremendously before his coronation.

The week consisted of lengthy discussions on domestic policies and restoration of estates to certain members of the royal family. Henry believed on letting bygones be bygones and refused to “follow his father’s footsteps”. The royal family has seen enough treachery and betrayal throughout the years and putting a stop to it was essential.

Although he was busy with politics and making sure Mary’s health was for the better, at night he would find himself thinking of Aria. He had promised that he would come back for her but wondered if she holds him to that promise. He could remember her face before he left her – flushed, confused, obviously thinking he was a madman of some sort.

A smiled carved upon his lips as he replayed the scenes between them. She was definitely different from the women he had. She had a spark in her. She was brave and not afraid to defy him. That was what he was attracted to – the fact that she wasn’t afraid of him. He could tell that she was nervous at first but when she overcame her nerves; her defiance towards him was electric.

He adjusted himself in his warm bed and clasped his hands together. He recalled that she has never been kissed before. That must have made her a pure virgin. Knowing that he gave her - her first kiss was enthralling.

_I’m coming for you, my lady._


	6. Chapter 6

It was a busy day for Aria. She had cleaned the hut, brought her steed, Redfire, to the stream and bathe it, collected mushrooms and harvested her some carrots and turnips from the vegetable patch behind her hut. By the time the small cauldron of hers was piping, she was famished. She picked on her old, thin dress carelessly before something caught her eye. Something shiny.

She took a second look at the golden glint atop of her dresser and slowly got up from her seat.

_How come I didn’t notice this before?_

Muddled amongst her ribbons and hairbrush lay a golden ring with a ruby sitting proudly in the centre. She picked up the ring gingerly and scrutinised it. By the design of the ring Aria could tell that it was a man’s ring.  _Ah, the king’s._  She must have forgotten about it when she was nursing him. Without thinking much she slipped the ring on her finger. It was much bigger. What did she expect?

She smiled as she took it off and put a thin silver chain, she found in her drawer, through the ring. Aria hesitated for a moment before putting the chain around her neck. It’s safer she thought. She remembered the King promising her that he will come back. Well if he ever did, she will give the ring back to its rightful owner.

* * *

 

“My lord, I do not think going back to the said village is a good idea,” Exeter retorted as Henry patted his steed. Henry and his uncle were standing in the stables. Clad in armour, with his hair combed back, Henry looked ready for war despite the fact that he was not going for it.

“My dear uncle, you do not understand, I have always kept my promises, and now I have promised someone to return, so I shall.” He shrugged as he saddled the horse.

“Well can’t it wait? The Dowager Queen is still weak.” Exeter was genuinely worried after Mary had told him about Henry’s encounter with the dark ones.

“Ah have you not seen her lately? My mother is as resilient and feisty as ever. She was the one who told me to go back.” Exeter heaved a sigh, Henry despite being his nephew, was the King of England after all.

He resigned, “Well, since the Dowager Queen has given her blessings than I shan’t do anything.”

Henry placed his right hand on his uncle shoulder, slightly squeezing it, assuring him that everything will be alright. Then grinning widely at his uncle, Henry mounted his white steed and nodded to the two knights behind him. “Messrs Langley and Carrington will accompany me, so there is no need to be worried my dearest uncle.”

“Come back safely my thrice gracious lord.”

“I shall.”

* * *

 

The day has become darker when Aria settled Redfire in the stables. She checked on Redfire one last time, making sure he was comfortable before picking up the blazing torch which sat on a bracket beside Redfire’s stall. She made her way out, shackled the stables and began to walk towards her hut. She fondled the silver chain around her neck as she walked. The chain has been with ever since she was born. Mrs Mason had taken care of her after her parents’ untimely death. She said her late mother had entrusted her with the chain. When Aria received the chain at the age of 12, she found it too painful to wear the chain. So she had stowed the only piece of heirloom she had in the drawer of her shabby dresser - until now.

Since the day Henry had burst through her door, Aria had Peter to add iron bolts and a large wooden one inside out to secure the hut. She placed the torch on the bracket beside her door and was about to turn one of the keys before hearing a rustle coming behind her hut.

She gulped while reaching for her bow and arrow.

The rustling grew louder.

Aiming her arrow at a black figure, Aria spoke calmly, “Whoever and whatever you are, show yourself.”

The figure turned deliberately and took off its hood. “The archer. My, my, my, I have waited for a very long time to meet you.”

For a moment Aria’s insides shrivelled up and froze.

The man standing in front of her was none other than Eneos, the chief leader of the dark ones. He was lanky, possessed beady brown eyes and a slightly crooked nose. He would even be considered handsome if not for his sallow skin and the cruelty in his eyes.

Eneos eyed the beauty in front of him and chuckled to himself. How did this sweet little thing kill 7 of his men with just her flimsy looking bow and arrows? She must have some sort of witchcraft.

“Oh you are much more beautiful than what my men described to me,” his cold tone made Aria shudder.

Mustering enough courage, Aria spoke, “What do you want?”

Eneous let out a roar of laughter, “What do I want?! Isn’t it obvious sweet cheeks?”

He slowly circled her, his eyes never left her as he went. “You killed 7 of my men and expect yourself to be safe?”

Aria gritted her teeth, “I killed many of your men before, why haven’t you come for me then?!”  
Her hands had become ice cold, her legs frozen on the spot.

 _So is this how it all ends with me?_   _A quick death if I’m lucky enough…_  She thought.

“Oh you pretty, pretty little thing. Eveready to gloat about how you murdered dozens of my men haven’t you?”

Aria remembered the night the village was invaded by the dark ones. She was woken up by a shrill cry; one of the maidens had been brutally raped and murdered thereafter. Mrs Mason whisked her away with several others to escape to the forest and casted an invisibility spell on all of them. She felt scared but the thought of those who were not lucky enough to escape, brought a certain rage within her. Once she realised she could walk away from the group unnoticed due to the spell, she ran back to the village and took matters into her own hands. The men were overpowered by the rogues by the time she reached the edge of the village. Her invisibility was her advantage. When the last threat was killed, Aria quickly went back to the women, pretending she was there all the time.

“You were invading our village, raping women and murdering the rest! You think I could only stand by and watch?”

Aria reached for the small pouch full of seeds that was for Redfire underneath her cloak.

“You should have.” Eneos growled.

“Too. Bad.”

Throwing the seeds at Eneos’s face to distract him, Aria ran towards the front of the hut, managing to unlock the bolt and dashed inside. She secured herself in, breathing raggedly.

“Do you think locking yourself in will keep you safe?!” Eneos roared.

He banged the walls of the hut forcefully and they rattled. He repeatedly banged against the hut, his strength proving to be formidable. Circling the hut he grabbed the blazed torch Aria had left at the front and threw it at the door. The door quickly caught fire. Gasping at the flaming door, Aria grabbed an empty sack and slapped it against the flames in attempt to extinguish them.

But her effort was futile; the flames had reached the roof, making the hut glow dangerously. Eneos easily knocked down the blazed door. His sinister laughter made Aria’s blood run cold. He came closer and Aria instinctively moved back, until she was cornered. He reached out and wrapped his long fingers around her neck.

Choking her, he lifted her off the ground, causing her to choke even more. Aria flailed aimlessly, trying to get Eneos to let go. His eyes were glowing with a mad lust for evil. Oh, he would not let this beauty die easily. He licked her neck, tasting her skin, and then grazed his teeth over her collar bone.

She tried to push Eneos off but the man was just too strong.

Aria grabbed the underside of Eneos’s arms and pulled them down hard causing him to howl in pain as he released Aria.

_Ha! A simple move of self-defence!_

Without hesitation, she kicked his crotch, sending him doubling over, clutching it. Grabbing a heavy wooden bowl, Aria smashed it over his head, rendering Eneos unconscious.

Splintering wood began to fall to her feet as she dashed through the hut and managed to get out of it.

“Aria!” Mrs Mason cried out as she saw the poor girl stumbling out of the burning hut.

The old woman hobbled towards her, grabbing the girl into her arms. She began to mutter chants under her breath and to Aria’s astonishment, jets of water, shaped like serpents began spewing out from nowhere, extinguishing the raging fire. Aria began to sob uncontrollably against the old woman’s shoulders.

“There, there my dear, you’re safe now.”

“No, I’m not! The chief leader of the dark ones was inside the hut. I’m done for Mama!”

Mrs Mason watched her goddaughter’s eyes go wild as she talked, her body trembling from the fear. Gripping the girl’s shoulders tightly, she spoke, “Aria Baudouin! If you are as afraid as your words have described, you are not the girl I have brought up!”

Tears continued to roll down her cheeks but Aria seemed to have snapped back to reality.

Mrs Mason was right. She has never felt frightened before. Was it because of Eneos’s physical brutality towards her? She has never been touched so harshly by a man before. Aria rubbed her neck and she was sure there were bruises from the strangling. She collapsed to the ground, her legs numb.

A moment later, her vision went black.


	7. Chapter 7

“How is she?” Henry asked.

He gently caressed her clammy forehead, smoothing out loose strands of her hair.

“She will be alright my Lord,” Mrs Mason smiled at him before making her way out of the room, leaving them alone.

Henry had arrived at the break of dawn, greeted by the sight of Aria’s burnt down hut. Colour drained from his face as he threw himself over the horse and ran towards the charred remains, shouting her name. Oh the relief he felt when Mrs Mason had approached and assured him she was safe.

His eyes darted towards her neck. The bruises were purplish black and seemed to be imprints from a pair of ruthless hands.

 _Who would have done that to this poor beautiful creature?_ Henry thought as he trailed his fingers lightly over her neck, almost feeling her pain.

 _Whoever did this to her must pay!_  Something silver caught his eye as he lightly pushed away her neckline to get a closer look.

Aria felt fingers caressing her neck, triggering the sore bruises. Feeling the adrenaline rush, Aria punched the intruder right in the nose, with one speedy swing.

“Argh!” Henry grasped his nose as he buckled over.  _What the…_ He shook his head and looked up, Aria was up, clutching to the side of the bed, horror-stricken.

“Oh! Your highness! My utmost apologies my King!”

Henry felt stinging pain shooting up his nose as blood trickled down to his palms. What déjà vu! He remembered the time when she was nursing him and he had grabbed her wrist, causing her pain. Perhaps this was his retribution!

Aria rushed towards him, helped him to his feet and sat him on the bed. Grabbing a cloth, she pushed his hands away, pressing it against his bleeding nose. She applied pressure and tipped his head back, attempting to stop the bleeding. Their eyes met; his bright electric blue to her sapphire blue ones.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” Aria whispered. She could feel him smiling against the cloth.

“I promised to come for you, didn’t I?”

His words seemed to soothe her soul, the unsettling emotions she felt the night before was gone and was replaced by a sense of security. Somehow she felt safer in his presence.

“Yes you did.”

She looked away, her hands no longer applying pressure against his nose. Henry tugged at the cloth down and wiped the remaining blood off his nose. He let out an abrupt chuckle, sniffling before gingerly touching his nose.

“Well no bones broken. But that was a mean swing.”

Colour rose to her cheeks as she nervously laughed. Taking advantage of the moment, Henry hooked a finger under her chin and kissed her. Before she could kiss him back, he pulled away, his eyes full of doubt, “You’re not going to scream at me again for making you kiss me no?” Aria giggled as he nuzzled the tip of her nose.

“No,” she breathed before returning the kiss.

Aria had insisted on going outside to examine the remains of her hut and to see if there was anything worth saving. When Henry helped her out, she could see the villagers clearing the burnt wood. Several of the men were gingerly picking on something that looks like a burnt corpse.

Aria hurried over, hoping, “Is he truly dead?”

Peter Gofric turned at the sound of her voice, “Looks like it Aria; Burnt beyond recognition.”

Aria took in a deep breath.

“Good.” That was all she could manage.

Henry slipped his left hand around her right and held it. The warmth of his skin against hers soothed her.

“Where am I supposed to stay now?” Aria muttered her breath.

Thumping her back from behind, Mrs Mason said, “With me of course! You call me Mama for a reason no?”

“Yes, Mama, but I’ve been living on my own for 6 years, I will only burden you and your husband once more.”

“Nonsense, you’re still our child,” Mrs Mason cupped Aria’s face and teared up.

“You may claim to be independent and strong, and by God, you are! Aria Baudouin, no matter how different your last name may be from mine, you are still my child!” She kissed Aria’s forehead forcefully, as if trying to implant her love to the young girl.

“Perhaps if the lady still refuses to burden you, she could come back to the castle with me and be a lady of the court and we shall also take the liberty to educate her.”

Aria whirled towards Henry, bewildered, “What?”

“Shush, child! That is the King of England you’re talking to!” Mrs Mason urgently muttered.

Aria studied his face; his eyebrows were worked up, the right one cocked higher than the left, his eyes, soft and sincere. Sensing there was no malice, Aria softened. “Apologies my King, I meant…”

Henry smiled tenderly, “Only if my lady permits it.”

A heartbeat later, “Yes. Take me with you.”

Before they left, Henry had filled a large canteen with the water from the enchanted spring and let Aria have a sip. It worked its magic! He watched her bruises disappear slowly, making the silver chain around her neck more prominent. Noticing how he was staring at the silver chain, Aria suddenly remembered.

She slipped the long chain out and held the ring belonging to him. “I found it when I was cleaning the hut. I must have removed it when I was nursing you.” For a moment Henry was dumbstruck. The ring had belonged to his father. His father had entrusted him with it right before his death.

_How could I have forgotten about it? Such a terrible son I am!_

He touched the ring gingerly, slightly tearing. He remembered how he had put on the crown after believing his father had left him to join the Lord, then being chided when his father had not passed just yet. Painful memories of that night flashed through his mind, making his heart ache.

“My liege, you can have it back now,” Aria said, taking the ring off the chain and handing it over to him. Taking the ring from her, Henry silently slipped it on his finger, nodding his thanks. He paused as if to say something but he didn’t. Instead he turned away from her.

Aria packed what little she had into a small bag (including her bow and arrows) and tied to Redfire’s saddle. She hugged Mrs Mason hard, kissed the old woman’s cheeks as well as her husband’s.

“I love you both.” Mrs Mason sobbed and clung onto Aria. “Come back when you can my dear. This will always be your home.”

Henry nodded towards the villagers who gathered to say farewell, eyed Aria as she mounted Redfire and joined him at his side. And they left.

* * *

 

When they had arrived at the castle, the greetings they got were heart-warming. The Beauforts, the lords of England, Henry’s brothers and even the Queen Dowager had assembled in the throne room. They had all stared and muttered amongst themselves when they saw Aria trailing behind Henry. Henry placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her from moving forwards anymore just before he proceeded to walk towards the throne and sat upon it.

The murmurs in the room grew louder as Aria stood there, alone and unsure of what to do. She gulped and held her head high, before bringing her eyes level to Henry’s. Henry smiled.

“My dearest family, friends and the court, standing before me, is the fair maiden, Aria Baudouin. For she is the one I and my fellow knights owe our lives to, being a brave soul she is, saving us from the jaws of death and nursing us back to health; For she is also the one who brought us to the spring that has cured the Dowager Queen from her illness.”

The room that was filled with harsh whispers fell silent as Henry ascended from his throne with his eyes sweeping across the room, before returning his gaze upon Aria. Then slowly he dropped to his knees and bowed.

Shocked, Aria stepped back and realised the whole room started to shuffle on its feet and followed suit.

_Well this is awkward._

“My King, there’s no need to,” Aria started.

Aria bowed to him, “It is any civilian’s duty to ensure the King’s safety. It is my honour to do so my liege.”

Henry looked up and cocked his right eyebrow before standing up straight. He strode over and hooked his finger under her chin, lifting her head up.

“No. The honour is to be saved by you, my fair Lady Baudouin.”

* * *

 

Aria was led by several handmaidens and knights towards her room. It was located at the Eastern tower of the castle, the same tower that held the King’s chambers. They walked through the breaches, up the long and winding flights of stairs before arriving to the very door where her room lies ahead.

They opened the door and Aria walked in. The very size of the room was thrice as big as her old hut. To her left, was a handsome four poster bed, draped with royal blue velvet curtains, complimented with sky blue sheets. To her right, a mahogany study desk, complete with a chair, and right in the centre of the wall, was a tall and wide door, leading towards a small but charming balcony.

“My lady, let me introduce ourselves to you,” said one of the handmaidens. “My name is Elizabeth, the one to my right is Mary and the other is Margret. If my lady requires any help, never hesitate to call for one of us.”

Aria nodded dumbly, still not believing what was happening.

_How can she, a commoner, have all this?_


	8. Chapter 8

When the handmaidens left her alone in the room, Aria scanned and scrutinised every last bit and corner of it, taking in its beauty and charm.

She touched every surface of the room, the doors, the walls, her bed, the elaborate embroidery on the curtains and the sheets, her table, the books arranged on it. The whole room seemed to vibrate with importance and she couldn’t quite believe that it was hers still.

There was a knock at the door and it opened. Elizabeth came in and bowed, “My lady, the King requests for you to be present in the dining room. But first! You must change!”

As if on cue, Margret brought in a new dress. The dress was made of soft chiffon, layered with silk in the colour of navy blue.

“It compliments your eyes, my lady.”

Aria only managed a smile. They helped her change and soon after they were on their way to the dining room.

“Elizabeth,” Aria broke the silence as she was led out of the tower to the main castle.

“Yes, my lady.”

“Is it possible for me to call you by a shorter name?” Aria asked timidly, afraid of offending the handmaiden.

Elizabeth smiled widely, “Of course you may, my Lady. You can call me Beth.”

“Ah! That makes it much easier. And please, call me Aria. ‘My lady’ sounds too…” Aria shrugged.

Beth gave Aria an assuring squeeze on the shoulder before nodding to the guards.

The doors of the royal dining room opened with a loud thump. A wide, long table filled lavishly with food greeted them. The delicious aroma of the feast filled the air as Aria was led to her seat, beside Prince John of Lancaster. The prince smiled kindly at her as she sat down. Henry’s brothers seemed to look similar to one another but unlike Henry who had dirty-blonde locks, John had dark hair, darker eyes but with a softer outlook than his eldest brother.

The rest of the table smiled politely at her before looking upon Henry who had just joined the table in time. He grinned widely, baring his teeth as he saw Aria and spoke, “Well, what are we waiting for? Let the feast begin!”

The clanging of the cutlery and laughter from the table filled the room. Aria didn’t say much during the meal. The only times she opened her mouth to speak was to say “Yes” or “No” whenever John offered her more food. The two princesses jested with the Dowager Queen and their brothers, giggling as Henry joked and teased them some more.

An overwhelming sense of sadness and happiness struck her at the time. She realised that she had never had a family feast before. True, she had Mr and Mrs Mason as her foster parents but family meals were scarce and practically non-existent due to them working on their field. Her face had shown how she was feeling or perhaps it was her eyes tearing up because John immediately sat up straighter.

“Lady Baudouin, are you alright?” John was leaning forward, a concerned look flashed across his kind face as he offered her a handkerchief. Eyes wide, ashamed at being caught, Aria gingerly took the handkerchief and wiped her tears. “I’m quite alright, your Highness.”

John wasn’t convinced, “Did you miss your family?”

Startled by his question, Aria returned his gaze, “Erm. Yes. Slightly.” She had to somehow cover up the emotional turmoil she’s having.

“My brother didn’t bring you here against your own accord didn’t he?!”

“No, no!” Aria was flustered, “He did no such thing!”

John nodded, turned back to his food, letting the matter drop.

_Well, that was something! But unlike your brother, you do know when to stop pursuing the matter._

“My brother has a way to charm people…”  _Well, perhaps not._

“He can easily yield response without even trying to but I can tell you’re not easily swayed.”

That made Aria smile. “No, no. I’m not. I even called him a pompous kissing toad when he tried.”

John snorted, “What?!”

Aria grinned, relishing the memory. “It was a misunderstanding.”

John chuckled, “He has found his match I guess.”

Henry clinked his fork to his goblet thrice to get everyone’s attention. Then he held his goblet up high, “A toast – to the beautiful and most fair, Lady Baudouin. The royal family of England is forever indebted to you.”

He clinked his goblet with the ones nearest to him before holding out his goblet to Aria.

“To Lady Baudouin!” The room chorused.

* * *

 

By the time Aria went back to her chambers, she could feel exhaustion hitting her like a sack of potatoes. She undressed and freshened up with the large bowl of water sitting on her dresser. She then lay on her soft bed. She was about to surrender herself to a slumber when there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” Aria cried while putting on her dress robes hastily.

“It’s me,” Henry’s voice rang through the door.

“Come in.”

Henry pushed open the door, smiling widely at her. “Getting ready for bed are we?”

Colour rose to her cheeks. “Erm. Yes.” She tugged at her robes, uncomfortable. Henry threw back his head and let out an infectious laugh. “I just wanted to check on you.”

Aria shrugged. “I’m fine. Just still star-struck at what I have subjected myself into but I’m alright.”

Henry leaned on the desk, folding his arms. “I know this seems probing but I must ask, are you literate my lady?”

“You mean if I could read or write?” Henry nodded.

Aria shrugged and sunk onto the bed. “No I’m afraid I’m not.”

“Well not to worry, I can arrange for some tutors and you will be well on your way.” He cocked his eyebrows and looked at her through his eyelashes, as if to ask for implicit permission.

Aria smiled at him, “That would be lovely.” Henry let out a chuckle of relieved and stood up to leave.

“One more thing my liege,” Aria called out to him before he reached for the door.

“Please, you can call me Aria.”

Henry grinned widely, “In that case, call me Hal.”

* * *

 

The next few days, Aria awoke at 7.30am daily, got ready with the help of her handmaidens and was at the dining room for breakfast by 8.30am sharp. The first few days were a struggle. Aria was not used to the dresses given to her and constantly begged Beth and Mary to loosen the cords. Margret, being the youngest, always giggled whenever Aria commented on how ridiculous the dresses can be.

Usually, she has breakfast together with Henry’s siblings, although the only ones who talked to her were John and Humphrey. The other two princesses tend to shy away from her and usually left the table by the time Aria arrived. She wasn’t too sure what to make of it but considering their young age and class, perhaps they thought she was strange.

Today was no exception. The two princesses nodded at Aria whilst exiting the room and John and Humphrey were busy jesting. Upon hearing her entrance, both brothers smiled at her and straightened up. Aria sat as Beth began to pile her plate with the usual, bread, half boiled egg and bacon strips while Mary filled her goblet with water.

“So, Lady Baudouin… I mean… Aria, what have you today?” John spoke whilst wiping the bread crumbs from his lips with a serviette.

She had insisted to be called by her first name. Strange considering the context – in a castle, around the royal family; but she was determined that formalities are just too cumbersome.

Aria placed her fork gently down and started to count off her fingers, “Let’s see, I have Arithmetic with Lady Kensington at 10, followed by another spelling and writing class with her as well at 11 to noon. In the afternoon I’m supposed to meet Lord Exeter for… Well, he refused to reveal what it was…”

“Seems like a busy day!”

Henry walked into the dining room, smiling widely at them. He sat at the head of the table and grabbed a piece of bread. He was clad in his famous red leather jacket, his golden crown sat upon his head seemingly controlling his locks. There was a slight 5 o’clock shadow and his smile, although wide, didn’t quite seem to touch his eyes like it usually does.

Aria hadn’t seen much of him ever since he came into her room, checking in on her. According to John, there were pressing issues on rebels and political unrest that the King had to resolve. She smiled politely at him and nodded.

“Good Uncle Exeter hasn’t told you anything about the meeting this afternoon I’m sure?”

Aria could only shake her head. Henry let out a short chuckle, “Good! It’s a surprise.”

When Aria raised her eyebrow up at his comment, Henry winked at her, “You’ll like it.”

“It’d better be a good surprise, my lord!” Humphrey interjected. Henry could only wink at them.

* * *

 

The classes with Lady Kensington were as always challenging for Aria. She had to constantly memorise the phonics, the grammar rules and what not.  _I guess speaking English is not enough!_ She thought frustratingly when she misspelled the word ‘Esquire’. Writing wasn’t any easier! Holding the quill took her a day to get accustomed to and to make the patterns and the lines of these seemingly obscure characters took another day.

“My lady, you’re doing well. No need to be so hard on yourself!” Lady Kensington comforted.

“I am my worst critic my lady,” Aria replied as she rubbed her temples.

“Now, now. You’re making such a good progress considering that you have never been educated till now! You just need more patience and resilience,” Lady Kensington put the book down and reached for her hand.

“Although I must say, books and being cultured is not the most important thing in life. Bravery, humour and smart-thinking are! I see you possessing all of that.”

She patted Aria’s hand awkwardly and beamed at the young woman. Lady Kensington has met many bright young girls but never one who was as quick-witted as Aria. They continued with phonics and more words to spell.

“Well, keep working hard and you’ll do fine, fair Aria.”


	9. Chapter 9

After a light lunch alone, Aria proceeded back to her room. She felt drained for some reason and wanted to take a nap. However, when she entered her chambers all of her sleepiness vanished into thin air.

The doors of the balcony were opened and Henry was leaning upon the door frame, his back facing her. He didn’t turn when she entered.

“My liege?” Aria implored.

Aria could almost hear Henry break into his usual wide grin when she spoke the words. He turned slightly and held out his right hand, beckoning her to join him. She took his hand as she joined his side. It’s been some time since they had held hands.

Sensing Aria’s confusion, Henry spoke, “I realised I’ve been neglecting you.”

“Oh… No, no you haven’t. You’ve been busy, Prince John informed me; plus you have no obligations towards me, my lord.”

“I do have obligations towards you!” Henry searched her face.

“Care to give me some instances?” Aria teased.

“The very fact that you saved my life and several others…” Aria shook her head, waving it off.

Henry caught her hand and looked into her eyes, “…and also the fact that I brought you here. Thus making me responsible for your well-being,” He leaned closer to her, the tip of his nose ever so slightly touching hers.

“Those are reasons…” Aria whispered, “Not examples.”

Henry let out his famous laugh, sticking his tongue ever so slightly. “Aren’t you the clever one to notice that?”

He entwined his long fingers around hers, warmth emitting from them and continued to look at her.

_I could look at you forever._

“This is a beautiful view,” Aria gestured towards the landscape, snapping him back to reality.

“Aye! I have a similar view as well, with my chambers just above yours.”

He leaned in close to her ear, his lips just brushing her left ear, breathing in her scent. She smelled of apple blossoms and ylang ylang and it was intoxicating. For a moment he wondered if she tasted as good as she smelled. He turned towards her and leaned his cheek against hers, before pulling away slightly and planting a kiss on her lips.

She kissed him back instantly, her hands firmly on his chest. Henry placed his left hand on the small of her back, pressing her close to him. His right hand that was holding hers abandoned its position and moved to her slender neck.

In that moment, all of Aria’s worries had left her. All she cared was this kiss and this kiss alone. She felt his lips move against hers, his tongue demanding entrance. She let him and froze when his warm wet tongue caressed the insides of her mouth.  _This was strange,_  she thought but nonetheless it felt good. She mirrored his every move, questioning herself as she went along.

Henry gently pulled away from the kiss, pressing his forehead against hers.

“You have witchcraft in your lips, fair Aria,” Henry whispered but his eyes were still closed. It was obvious he was affected by it. He nuzzled her nose before releasing her from his embrace.

“Now, I have some business to attend to! I’m sure you’ll have some time to rest before that appointment with Lord Exeter.”

Aria stared blankly at him. “I am sure Elizabeth, the handmaiden, will know where to bring you.”

* * *

 

“So where are we going exactly?” Aria asked when Beth led her out to a vast field, away from the castle. She managed to get an hour of sleep and even had a good dream about Henry and herself.

“You’ll see,” Beth winked and quickened her steps.

“You lot like to keep me guessing don’t you?” Aria huffed exasperatedly.

They walked further and finally a lone figure stood in the middle of the field.

“My Lord Exeter,” Beth called out, “Lady Aria is here to see you.”

Exeter nodded and beckoned her to join his side. “I am glad to see you, my lady.”

“Please, call me Aria.”

He nodded, acknowledging her request and led her forward. After a few minutes of walking, they finally reached their destination. The field laid ahead was filled with tents, burning campfires.

“Erm, pardon my language, sire, but what is this?”

“I’m not sure if the King has told you before, but we are planning to go on war with France and this is the campsite for the men.”

_A war with my motherland? Sure I find no attachment to it but a war with France?_

“Erm… So why do I need to be here?”

“Ah! The King informed me what an impeccable archer you are and since some of these men need to be archers in the war, he suggested that you would be able to guide them.”

Aria frowned,  _Wow,_  she thought.  _He really thinks something of me doesn’t he?_

“Uh, I guess I can.” Aria shrugged,

Exeter beamed at her and placed a hand on her shoulder, “I don’t think I have ever met a woman who has impressed the Lord so much.”

For the next few hours, she spent giving out instructions to the men, correcting their posture, how they held their bows and shouting praises whenever they hit bull’s eye. At first, the men scoffed at her.

“Fancy a woman chiding at me. Only a wench does that,” remarked a grimy bloke when Aria corrected his posture and raised her voice to tell him he has his aim wrong. Without hesitation, Aria immediately pinched the underside of his arm and pulled, making him bawl over, crying out.

The other men roared with laughter as the man fell to the floor, rubbing his arm furiously.

“The next time, I won’t hesitate to hit you where it hurts the most,” Aria snarled.

“Mind your manners yeoman!” Exeter shouted, half-crossed, half-amused. Aria smirked and carried on. Henry was right, she did like this.

“That was a good stunt you pulled my lady!” Exeter grinned as they walked back to the castle.

“I care not for rudeness, Lord Exeter.”

Exeter chortled, “Well the King was right about you. You are indeed feisty.”

Aria grinned and said nothing. Beth and Mary were at the castle’s gates when they reached. They accompanied Aria back to her room. Along the way, Aria excitedly poured over the details and the three women kept giggling especially when Aria animatedly recounted her stunt.

After changing and freshening up, it was time for dinner. She took her usual place beside John.

“I hear you tortured the men out in the fields today,” John lamented. They both laughed.

“I’m not a tyrant. I just can’t tolerate rudeness.”

“Aye. No doubt in that,” John winked.

Henry was busy putting a piece of chicken into his mouth when he noticed John jesting with Aria. A strange bubble of jealousy coursed through him as Aria laughed at what John had remarked. He put down his fork and leaned forward.

“Perhaps Lady Baudouin would care to share what happened today in the fields?” His voice was iron and had a slight hint on leering.

_Well that was strange, for the past week everyone had referred her to her first name or most Lady Aria. Never ‘Lady Baudouin’. And why does he look so tense?_

“I’m sure Lord Exeter has informed everyone what happened today.” The table cheered and laughed.

“One needs to see how this lady holds her ground! It was astonishing!” Exeter cried. Even the Dowager Queen beamed at her. Henry managed a tight smile and continued working on his chicken while his uncle jested and verbally enacted what happened.

Throughout dinner, Aria and John continued jesting. John had a great sense of humour, making her laugh whenever possible. Once in a while she would catch Henry looking over them and would break his gaze whenever she turned. Perhaps he longed to talk to her but being separated by his siblings and mother, there was no way they could hold a private conversation unless the whole table could hear them.

Without realising it, Henry had left the table before everyone finished. Aria couldn’t comprehend what was wrong with him; perhaps he was tired and worked up.

* * *

 

When she found him leaning on the balcony door frame just like this afternoon, she wasn’t surprised. She couldn’t help but admiring his physique. He was wearing a velvety shirt, a pair of grey tight pants. Even in the candlelight she could make out the muscles pushing through the cloths.

He turned slightly when he heard her approach nearer. He didn’t appear as tense and his expression seemed apologetic.

“You weren’t yourself just now.”

“I know. And I am truly remorseful.”

Henry reached out for her hand and wrapped his fingers around hers.

“I still don’t get why you seem so tense.” Aria searched his face, as if looking for answers.

Henry shook his head, brushing off the issue. “There are so many things I have to take care of but I honestly just want to spend time getting to know you.”

“Hal, I’m sure England’s pressing issues such as an impending war with France, are much more important than me,” Aria consoled him, squeezing his hand. “Besides I’m well taken care of here.”

_I want to be the one who make you smile and laugh. Not John. I want to make you mine._

He looked up at her with sad eyes and let out a resigned sigh.

Henry pulled her closer to him, his eyes staring into hers. Then he gently nudge the tip of her nose with his, brushing his lips over hers. He heard a quiet gasp from and covered her mouth with his. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her hard, tasting her sweetness, his tongue demanding entrance. Aria let herself melt into him as she kissed him back, following his every move. She had never been kissed like this before by him.

Henry dragged himself away from her, his eyes clouded with desire, lips slightly swollen from the hard kiss. He watched reluctantly flutter her eyes open, before kissing her softly on the lips again and then trailing kisses down her chin and up to her left earlobe. He nipped it, before licking it with the tip of his tongue. She gasped once more and let out a moan, digging her nails into his shoulders.

Henry began to undo her dress, fumbling slightly before managing to loosen it. He kissed her collar bone, trailing down to the swells of her cleavage. With one quick move, he removed her dress, leaving just her chemise on. He kissed her again, taking off his jacket, kicking off his shoes in the process. Aria threaded her fingers through his hair as he laid her down on the bed before pulling at the thin straps of her chemise, before pushing it down leaving her exposed.

For a moment all of her desire for him was forgotten. Colour rose to her cheeks as Henry paused. His mouth slightly gaping as his hot eyes darted her naked body, drinking in her beauty. She was torn between covering herself, stopping all of this and just let things happen. God knows what will happen for she has no idea.

_Stop thinking!_

He flicked his eyes to her face, before coming closer and covering it with soft kisses. He kissed her lips again and palmed her left breast, causing her to gasp loudly. Then slowly, Henry lowered down, dragging his warm, wet tongue over her nipple. A low moan escaped at the same time causing her body to jerk against him. He continued to tease her, making her squirm against him.

As he trailed hot wet kisses across her right breast, his hands snaked their way down in between her legs. He gently parts her thighs, caressing the creases before cupping her. He ran his thumb over her puckered lips, feeling her wetness. She shivered against him as the tip of his fingers found the bundle of nerves. His fingers moved in slow excruciating circles while his mouth continued to sucking her right breast.

Her body began to jerk against his fingers as they work their magic, quickening by the second. Just before she peaked, Henry snaked down further. He spread her lips before licking her hot wet slit, still having his fingers teasing her clit. Then he propped himself up, licking her breast, suckling her nipple.

“Oh! My Lord!” Aria managed to cry out, digging her nails into his shoulders as she peaked, feeling waves and waves of ecstasy flow through her body.

Henry gently released her nipple from his lips and slipped his fingers into her. She let out a gasp. Smiling predatorily, Henry slipped them out before licking her juices from them. He began tug on his clothes with Aria sitting up, pushing them aside, and revealed his taut body. She smoothed her palms over his chest and stomach, feeling the lean muscles tense under them.

Henry threw his shirt over his shoulders and pushed Aria back onto the bed.

“You’re mine,” he growled into her ear as he kissed her again, pushing his trousers down, guiding her hand to his fully erect manhood.

Aria paused at first, not knowing what to do. Henry wrapped her fingers around it and guided her to stroke it up and down. He grunted and moaned out her name as she continued to stroke him. He grabbed her other hand and guided them to his balls, urging her to rub them as well then leaned back on the bed, leaning on his elbows.

Then, without expecting it, Aria leaned down and licked the tip. Henry let out a groan, gasping out her name. Smiling impishly at his reaction, Aria swirled her tongue around the tip again, before wrapping her lips around it.

He jerked against her mouth and hurriedly lifted her face from his groin, “No it’ll all be over too soon,” he breathed.

Laying her back down, Henry crawled in between her parted thighs and guided his cock to her opening and gently teased her. Aria whined.

“This is going to hurt a little my fair Aria.” And he entered her.

Aria winced as his cock stretched her wide. He stayed still for her to get used to it, then slowly entering more, pausing every now and then, kissing her face softly all over. The pain was unbearable but she refused to let him stop, tears were rolling down the side of her face as she felt him stretching her hymen. The slow entry made him calm down a little.

He felt a familiar tingle but her tightness made him stop. He remained sheathed in her, kissing her passionately before he felt her gripping his shoulders tighter and bucked her hips against him.

Groaning, he began to withdraw himself and plunged into her again. She started to moan and he lost control. He thrusts in and out of her hard and fast, feeling her nails digging deep into her shoulders as he felt her clenching over him.

“Yes! Oh! My Lord- Yes!”

Henry went over the edge as she moaned, thrusting deep inside her as he felt her clenching and unclenching him, cumming hard.

They lay still, gasping for air. Her propped up legs slowly slid down his waist as Henry gently kiss her lips. They kissed each other softly before Henry broke the contact, laying to his side.

“That’s amazing.”

“No my lady, you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut written by the lovely JayMcKins :)


	10. Chapter 10

Dowager Queen Mary de Bohun was a gentlewoman with a practical mind. During the dinners, she noticed how Henry had acted towards the commoner and suspected something between them. He may have acted nonchalant when she asked him about it but she gave birth to him, brought him up and watch her firstborn grow into a man. She was there during his childhood, his riotous youth. She knows her son. She could tell he has feelings for Aria.

Personally, she liked the young woman; true, she might have saved their lives but she was a commoner and she was not of noble birth. A King cannot marry a commoner. It was frowned upon and has never happened. No need for centuries of tradition to be broken.

The negotiations of the marriage between Henry and the youngest daughter of the King Charles VI of France had begun after it barely started due to Henry IV’s ill health followed by his death. Rumours had it that the young princess Catherine was beautiful and her father was desperate to halt Henry from engaging in war. She knew her son was claiming his rights to the French throne but she could not comprehend why he was so adamant about it.

War or not, Mary knew she had to persuade her eldest son to consider the marriage proposal before he gets too involved with Aria and get distracted from his duties.

* * *

 

Before he left her chambers, Henry paused to gaze at her one more time. Aria was deep in her sleep, curling up against her pillows, her right hand tucked under her chin.

_She looked so beautiful and peaceful like this._

At first he didn’t want to leave her but he decided that exiting the room during daylight was a risk. He tucked her in one more time and kissed the top of her head softly, breathing in her scent and left the room.

It was only after two hours did Aria wake up from her snooze. They had laid side by side, their limbs still entangled from their lovemaking. A small part of her was disappointed to discover that he wasn’t by her side but she could understand why he had left. The other side of the bed was still warm and she could still make out his scent on the sheets. She grinned at the memory of her rushing to change the sheets of her old bed after Henry had left the village.

When she moved her legs, she winced. She hadn’t realised she was sore. Gingerly shifting between the sheets, she laid on her back, letting exhaustion lull her to dreamland again.

The next morning Aria faked a cough and a hoarse voice to avoid getting out of bed.

“Oh, Lady Aria, are you sure you do not need a physician to look at you?”

“Oh, please -cough- I’m sure I’ll be fine, -cough- I think it was the men who passed me a bug yesterday. And exhaustion! -cough- Yes, I’m exhausted from yesterday.”

Aria gathered the sheets around her and hid behind them. She will always be the worst liar she had ever known.

_Oh what shame. To be lying to Beth just to be in bed. But my- Why is it so painful and sore?_

Beth was unconvinced. “My lady, you are not sick,” she said matter-of-factly.

Aria shrugged and curled up into a ball, wincing along the way.

 _Busted! Should she tell?_   _No! She shouldn’t! What would Beth think of her? The King’s Paike?!_

“My lady, if you are truly sick, you should –”

“I surrender!” Aria interjected.

Beth was stunned.

She blushed profusely before gesturing to her thighs, “I’m sore.”

“Sore? I don’t quite get what you mean.”

“My…. Beth! Goodness!” She gestured to her nether parts and covered her face with the sheets.

_THIS IS BEYOND EMBARASSING!_

“It’s sore,” she repeated.

“Oh! Uh- Well uh-” Beth flustered, finally realising what Aria was getting at. “But, but with whom did-” She stopped herself. It wasn’t her place to question Lady Aria!

“My apologies my lady, I shouldn’t ask.” She bowed her head, her hands wringing.

“No, no. But I shan’t tell.” Aria tucked a lock of hair behind her ears. “But could you please get me something to soothe the pain?” she asked timidly.

Beth could only manage a nervous smile, “Yes my lady. I will. Don’t worry about your classes and appointments; I shall inform Lady Kensington and Lord Exeter about you not being well.”

“Yes, thank you Beth. I am indebted to you.”

“Nonsense, my lady! Your wishes are my commands.”

Then she left.

* * *

 

There was a light knock on the door.

“It’s me!” Henry’s voice rang through the door.

Aria gasped, adjusting her dress and straightening up on her bed. Beth managed to find some medicine for her to apply to soothe the pain. So far it had worked but the pain wasn’t all gone.

“Come in.”

Henry peeked inside as he pushed the door open. She was sitting on the bed, avoiding his gaze.

“Elizabeth mentioned to me you were not feeling well.”

Aria picked at her dress and laughed, embarrassed. “Has she now?”

Henry inched closer and sat beside her. “Are you alright?” He cupped her cheeks gently, making her look at him. His blue eyes seemed to be brighter than usual, with sunlight hitting them.

Aria nodded dumbly, feeling her cheeks burn as he stared at her. “I don’t feel well.”

She tried to move away but she winced and yelped. Henry stood up, concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Do I look alright?” Aria said exasperatedly.

“You do!” Henry gestured at her.

“Well I don’t feel like I do!”

“Please tell me what’s wrong!”

Aria looked up at him angrily. She gritted teeth, biting back a retort.

_Does he really need everything to be spelled out to him?!_

“I’m in pain after last night!”

Henry was taken aback, “I don’t unders-” Then he suddenly remembered it was her first time yesterday. “Oh…” He sank onto the bed beside her and gathered her in his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” Henry whispered before he kissed the top of her head. “That was inconsiderate of me.”

“You have other things on your mind,” Aria murmured against his neck. He caressed her back and cupped her cheek, making her look up. He leaned in and kissed her softly. She kissed him back, deepening the kiss.

* * *

 

Within a few days, Aria no longer wince when she moved her legs. Classes and meetings with the army of men for archery continued as though nothing had happened. Henry spent most nights with her although there was no lovemaking and he would usually leave before dawn.

That afternoon Aria decided not go back to her room to rest before meeting with the army. She decided to take a stroll in the castle’s garden. When she arrived, she spotted Phillipa, sitting on one of the benches, crying.

She fished out a handkerchief and hurried over.

“Your highness,” Aria whispered, squatting down so she was level with the princess, “I think you might need this,” handing out the piece of cloth to her.

Stunned, Phillipa stared at her. Her eyes were bloodshot; her cheeks were blotchy pink from all the crying. Aria reached out to cover her hand with hers and placed the handkerchief in her palms.

“I insist.”

More tears began to stream down the princess’s face as she leaned forward and began to sob uncontrollably against Aria’s shoulder. She had never had a woman sought comfort from her and awkwardly patted Phillipa’s head.

“I… -hic- I don’t want to –hic- leave the castle,” Phillipa wailed, hiccupping.

It took Aria a moment before processing what was going on. During the last few days, there were negotiations for Phillipa to marry King Eric XIII of Sweden. There were also rumours of Henry marrying the King’s sister but Henry assured her that he didn’t agree to it.

“I know it’s going to be hard, but you’re going to be a queen.” Aria felt her nodding against her shoulders. She pulled away, wiping away her tears with the handkerchief and sniffled.

“How did you even leave your home to come here?”

_I didn’t see that coming._

Aria shrugged, she never dwelled on her leaving her village behind. Perhaps she was desperate to get rid of the horrible memory.

“I believe my circumstances were different from yours. I guess the King’s assurance of my future was the reason why I was able to leave my home behind. This castle is my home now.”

She squeezed Phillipa’s hands. The age difference between them shouldn’t be too big. Aria turned 21 before meeting Henry and she gauged the princess to be around the same age.

“I’m sure the King of Sweden will take care of you like your brother did.” Phillipa could only blink at her.

“I’m sure even more so since you’re to be his wife and Queen Consort!” Aria winked. She wrapped her arms around Phillipa and gave her a warm hug. “You’ll be fine your highness.”

“There is no wonder why everyone is enchanted by you Lady Aria.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New plot twists coming your way!


	11. Chapter 11

It was getting late and Aria slipped herself underneath the covers. The night was blistering cold and the warm from the fireplace was not warming up the room enough. Usually Henry would be with her by now, by her side. They’d just talk, getting to know each other. She always looked forward to their conversations because she loved listening to him talk; about his life, his childhood, his life before being crowned king. Plus his voice was soothing and calm.

But it seems that tonight will be one of the nights where Henry was too tired and retired back in his own chambers. She was about to surrender to a slumber before feeling someone click open the door, walked quickly to the bed, hearing clothes hitting the floor. She felt the sheets being peeled back and a depression against the mattress. A strong slender hand wrapped around her middle, pulling her close.

“Feeling sleepy are we?”

Aria laced her fingers around his, “Aye, but you just have to ruin it.”

Henry nuzzled her earlobe and grinned against it, “Sorry my love.”

“I heard someone comforted my dear sister today in the gardens.”

Aria rolled over to face him. He looked tired, his eyes slightly sunken with his sharp jawline peppered. All the politics, negotiations for the war were taking a toll on him. She gently rubbed his stubbly jaw and nodded.

“Phillipa is just scared. She’ll be going to a foreign land, with no one familiar,” she whispered.

Henry let out a sigh, “I know. “

“When is she leaving?”

“In a week’s time. Not to worry, I’ve discussed with mother, a handful of her handmaidens will accompany her to Sweden after the marriage. She’s not exactly as brave as you.” He winked at her before kissing her forehead.

Aria snuggled closer, “Whoever said I was brave?”

“My most fair Aria, if you are not brave, we would not be here.”

He planted a kiss on the bridge of her nose. Aria looked up and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against him. The warmth emitting from her body made him instantly aroused. He ran his tongue over her lips, making her open them. He delved into her warm mouth, meeting his tongue with hers. His right hand trailed down and slipped under her chemise, making contact with her soft skin.

“I don’t understand why you wear garments in bed,” he rasped, tugging her chemise off.

Aria giggled as he did, hooking her left leg around his waist, putting a hand on his neck, dragging him back for a kiss. He rolled her onto her back, kissing her with more passion. He let out a low moan as she dug her heel into his butt.

He felt himself getting harder as they grinded against each other. He pulled away, kissing his way down to her navel. He paused to look up at her. Her eyes were clouded with desire she had laced her fingers through his hair, anticipating. He winked at her, parting her thighs, caressing the inner parts. Then he licked her from slit to clit. She cried out from the contact, her fingers still firmly in his hair. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, firmly spreading them open. He continued to tease her, concentrating on her clit, driving her wild. She writhed against his tongue, tugging on his hair.

When he slipped a finger into her, Aria moaned out his name causing him to lick her clit faster. She felt herself clenching over his finger as she clawed at the sheets, crying out his name. He slipped in another finger, thrusting them in and out mercilessly while his tongue danced on her clit. She bucked against him, trembling as she peaked. She whimpered as waves of ecstasy coursed through her body.

When she opened her eyes, Henry had covered her body with his. He gently kissed her, his tongue swirling around hers. At first she froze, tasting herself on his tongue but when Henry deepened the kiss, she relaxed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“Round two,” he purred in her ear as she felt him prop her right leg around his waist before entering her. Aria let loud gasp followed by a low moan as he sheathed deep in her. He pressed his forehead against hers before withdrawing and thrusting himself inside her, making her grasp his back. He started deep and deliberate at first but began moving at a faster rhythm. Aria felt herself clenching and unclenching his cock, her fingers instantly grabbing his hair.

Henry smiled against her skin, kissing her earlobe, nipping it as she jerked against him again, climaxing again. When she clenched him, Henry thrust deep, feeling his eyes roll back cumming inside her.

She gently kissed his left temple and rubbed her cheeks against his stubble. He snickered and propped himself up to look at her. He gazed at her perfect face before staring into her eyes.

“I love you, my most fair Aria.”

“I love you too, my King.”

* * *

 

Lady Kensington clapped her hands as she read Aria’s piece of work.

“Amazing Lady Aria! Truly remarkable!”

Aria blushed and grinned. It’s been more than a month since she came to this castle and now Lady Kensington was determined she was able to handle more difficult tasks.

“I think we can move classes in the library where you can read more complex books.”

Aria nodded and threw herself onto Lady Kensington. The elder lady almost lost her balance.

“Thank you Lady Kensington. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome my dear.”

* * *

 

The next few days Lady Kensington began to introduce Aria to thicker books and a subject called History. She didn’t fancy the subject, finding it dry and hard to comprehend. She would struggle to remember the dates, wrote down notes and her own analysis but she felt like she was writing nonsense most of the time.

On that fateful day, Aria had her hands on her forehead as she pored over a thick book. Lady Kensington had left her alone to study the next chapter.

“You seem busy.”

Aria took her nose off the book and looked up. “Aye! I am busy - busy dying.”

John sniggered and took a seat beside her. He leaned over to see what she was reading and caught a whiff of apple blossoms and ylang ylang.

_Why does she have to smell this good every time?_

He pulled the book towards himself and flipped to check the cover.

“Ah. This book will be the death of you unless you think of it as a book full of stories.”

Aria rubbed her temples, “Stories?”

“Aye.” He straightened up in his chair and read dramatically, “Upon the deaths of Louis  _the tenth_  and John  _the first_  in 1316, Philip IV’s  _second-eldest son_ , Philip,  _sought_ the throne for _himself_.”

John feigned a gasp and continued, “This was  _opposed by several of the nobility_ , such as Odo the fourth, Duke of, Charles of Valois and Charles, Count of La Marche.*”

Aria laughed whenever he dragged and read the words expressively coupled with exaggerated facial expressions. He continued reading and Aria had to hit his arm for him to stop.

“See, isn’t that more enjoyable?”

Aria’s eyes were watering and covered her mouth to muffle the sound. But her shoulders were still shaking.

“John! Stop!” She gasped. He pushed the book back into her arms and grinned. He was about to say something but was interrupted.

“Brother John, I think that’s enough jesting for today.”

Aria and John turned towards the voice. Henry was standing by the bookshelves with folded arms. His lips formed a thin line, his eyes emotionless. John gulped before smiling good-naturedly.

He stood up, nodded towards Henry, “My liege, I shall take my leave now.”

He walked towards the door before glancing back to Aria and made a funny face at her. A bubble of giggles threatened to erupt out of her but she covered her mouth in time. Although the coverage of her hands did not hide the smile lighting up her eyes.

“John! OUT!” Henry bellowed and John disappeared through the door.

Aria let her hand slip down and looked at Henry with derision, “No need to be harsh with your brother.”

Henry rolled his eyes.  _You’re mine. Watching you act like that with John just makes me…_

He took John’s seat, not speaking to Aria, still crossed. Aria reached out to touch him but he pulled away.

_Okay, that was weird… Oh…. Oh! Oh my, is he possibly jealous?!_

“You’re jealous!” Aria cried.

Henry sighed. As much as he wanted to deny it, he was- extremely jealous of his own brother.

“John and I are only friends, Hal.”

“I honestly think he means more,” Henry said through gritted teeth.

Aria shook her head, waving it off, “No he doesn’t. He has never made any advances.”

Henry’s tense demeanour seemed to lax when the words came out of her mouth and looked at her through his eyelashes. His bright blue eyes seemed sad and tired.

“Really?”

Aria huffed and held his hand, “Yes. Now don’t look at me like that. You don’t know what it does to me.”

A small hint of a smile hooked onto his lips, “Like what?”

Aria wagged her finger, “No. Don’t even attempt to go there, my Lord.”

“Why are you here Hal?”

“I wanted to be with you, Aria.”

“Did the meeting with the council go well?”

Henry let out a heavy sigh and immediately got tense again. “No.”

When he didn’t continue, Aria decided not to probe into the issue. She was about to pack her things and put back the book where she had found it earlier when he suddenly spoke.

“There’s an assassination plot against me.”

Aria immediately dropped the book and it hit the table with a heavy thud. “What?!”

“Why?” she whispered. Aria was seated, her eyes wide with fear hands grasping at Henry’s right arm.

“Remember when I told you about how my father’s usurped the throne and deposed of King Richard II?”

Aria nodded.

“They’re aiming to replace me with Richard II’s presumptive heir, Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March.”

“Who is ‘they’?”

“Richard of Conisburgh, Henry Scrope and Sir Thomas Grey.”

Aria squeezed his arm before making him turn towards her. His eyes were hollowed, haunted somehow and it was just depressing. She kissed the tip of his nose. Henry leaned in and kissed her lips, hand gently caressing her neck.

“So what are you going to do?” Aria had pulled away and placed her forehead on his. He shrugged.

Honestly when it was mentioned to him in the council room he was taken aback. He was furious at first, throwing things on the floor, slamming the table, shouting at the messenger and barking orders to the councilmen. But when he was walking along the hallways approaching the library, he felt hollow, as if the light at the end of the tunnel had extinguished. And to see Aria laughing with John, being so happy, made it all worse.

“I’ve ordered for their arrest in Southampton.”

“What will happen to them then?”

“A trial for all of three of them,” Henry declared, “Then execution according to their classes if found guilty.”

“All three of them will be beheaded if found guilty?” Aria whispered. The image of heads rolling onto the ground is enough to make her toes curl.

“Nay. Sir Thomas Grey is a commoner. If found guilty he will be drawn, hanged and quartered.” His voice was iron, emotionless.

Aria was taken aback. “Quartered?! Isn’t it just enough to have his life taken away from him but to be quartered as well; isn’t that bordering on the lines of cruelty?”

Henry frowned, “That is the punishment for high treason.”

He turned towards her, “He is plotting to murder me, the  _King of England_  and depose me.”

Aria immediately backed down, she was treading on dangerous waters now. Angering him further would just be risky.

She nodded dumbly and mumbled, “Apologies, my liege.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut written by the lovely JayMckins


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New plot twists!

The preparation for Phillipa’s wedding was extravagant. Aria managed to peek at her wedding dress that was a white tunic with a silk cloak of the same colour, bordered with furs of grey squirrel and ermine. A handful of her maidens have already set sail to Sweden to make preparations there and the ones left back in the castle were tasked to pack the princess’s belongings.

Aria was sitting in the castle’s garden, reading a book. It was a cool day to enjoy one’s self outdoors. She was about to turn a page when Phillipa sat beside her. Aria immediately dog-eared her book and closed it as the princess smiled at her and reached for her hand.

“The King thought it would be more meaningful if I ask you to be one of my maids of honour than him asking you on my behalf,” she spoke softly.

Aria gasped, “Your highness, I thought Princess Blanche was to be yours? If you are feeling obliged to do so just because I offered some comfort to you, then, there is no need to!”

Phillipa grinned, “Don’t be silly! Please! And to quote you the other day, I insist!”

Both women laughed and Aria squeezed the princess’s hands. “Then I would be honoured to.”

* * *

 

Beth, Mary and Margret had started to pack for Aria. The plan was for them to stay in Sweden for a week; 3 days before the wedding and 3 days after the wedding. Due to the arrest of the three masterminds for the assassination plot and the imminent trial in Southampton, Henry could not make it to the wedding. He had tasked John to represent him and walk Phillipa down the aisle.

“Will you be alright?” Aria asked. They were in Henry’s chambers and he had tugged her into an embrace. He nodded silently and gave her a weak smile.

“They’re caught, now we just need to determine their innocence. Or not.”

Aria nuzzled his neck and kissed a freckle, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too my love.”

“Will you be alright in Southampton?”

“My uncles and the councilmen will accompany me. No need to worry.”

* * *

 

The wedding was taking place in Lund, Scania, Sweden. The journey on sea took close to 4 days and on land, another half a day. By the time they reached the castle hosting them, all of them were exhausted. Beth had accompanied Aria. She was given a small room (half the size of her own room back in England) and even had to share it with Beth. At first Beth was enraged. The nobles must have thought Aria was a handmaiden as well. Aria brushed it off and persuaded Beth not to make a huge fuss. It was petty anyways.

On the wedding day itself Aria woke up early and was dressed by 8am. Her own maid of honour dress was made of silk and chiffon but unlike Princess Blanche’s (Phillipa’s younger sister and 1st maid of honour) gold and yellow dress, hers was peach. The off shoulder dress had intricate details over the bodice and its skirt flowed behind her, with a slight train. Beth had braided her hair to the side and letting it droop to her right.

“Wow.” John was leaning on the door frame of Humphrey’s room when he saw Aria and Beth approached. He wore his royal blue velvet tunic, a pair of black courtly pants with the royal ceremonial gold necklace.

_You truly are beautiful._

Colour rose to her cheeks as she gave John a small curtsey, “Have you had your breakfast your highness?”

John beamed at her and shook his head. “Will my Lady Aria accompany then?”

He hooked an arm and put it forward. Aria took it and feigned being touched.

“Only if the Prince insists,” taking his arm.

They both laughed and proceeded to the dining room.

* * *

 

It has been 5 days since Aria and his siblings together with his mother set sail to Sweden. Henry was leaning against the stone wall, arms folded. He was waiting for Lord Exeter to call him into the courtroom. The trial for his assassination was taking a longer time than expected. The three ringleaders kept turning on each other, denying their own guilt, accusing a phantom when they were clearly in the wrong.

Henry was genuinely livid when he could not be the one who gives Phillipa away for her wedding. He knew that seeing these criminals being put to justice was important but Phillipa was his sister. She had regarded him as her fatherly figure since their father had passed and now her happiness will no longer be his responsibility. He will definitely not see her often and he knew he will miss her dearly and their banter during meal times.

Call him selfish and possessive but he was reluctant to let Aria go as well. When Phillipa approached him to ask for his permission to have Aria as a maid of honour, he hesitated for some time but he saw how Philippa wanted Aria to be one and finally he told Phillipa to ask Aria herself. He knew that he could not be there for his sister and the one next in line was John. He wanted to believe that John has no ulterior motives towards Aria but he still could shake off the jealousy.

The heavy oak doors creaked open. “My liege, it’s time.”

Henry pushed himself off the wall, straightened and walked into the courtroom.

* * *

 

Aria checked in on Phillipa 30 minutes before she was due to walk down the aisle. The Princess was quietly letting the handmaidens fix her dress and veil. She stood in her beautiful white dress but she was obviously anxious and fidgety.

“You’re beautiful your highness.” Aria held her clammy hands and squeezed them affectionately.

Phillipa nervously cracked a smile, “You’re much more beautiful than me Lady Aria.”

She beamed and shook her head, “Nonsense,” She adjusted Philippa’s veil, “Today, the bride is the most beautiful woman in the cathedral.”

* * *

 

As much as Aria was sincere about her statement earlier, when she walked down the aisle with a Swedish groomsman, all of the guests could not take their eyes off her and started to whisper amongst themselves. Some even thought she was the princess herself but her dress and the lack of veil gave it away.

She took her place and watched Blanche walk down with another groomsman, followed by the bride herself. John winked at Aria as he walked Phillipa and gave her away. The vows went smoothly and soon the newlyweds were walking out of the Cathedral, greeting with the citizens who kept pushing each other to catch and glimpse of their new Queen.

* * *

 

The wedding banquet itself was lavish. John kept piling Aria’s plate with food and when she finally protested, he laughed and asked for her to dance with him.

Aria hesitated, “But I don’t know how to dance.”

“Just follow my lead, avoid stubbing my toes and you will be fine my lady.”

Aria pretended to ponder over his request and when John pouted at her, she relented, “Oh alright.”

Grinning, he took her hand and kissed it before leading her towards the dance floor. He held her close, gently guiding her right hand to his shoulder, while holding her left hand up. Abandoning her hand, he placed his on the small of her waist and started to sway.

_Why does she have to smell so good? Her scent is just intoxicating._

Winking, John whispered, “Just follow my lead… There you go… 1, 2, 3… 1, 2, 3.”

Aria struggled and accidentally stepped on his right foot. John grimaced and Aria went rigid.

“I’m alright, my lady. Now just avoid my toes. 1, 2, 3…”

They danced woodenly at first but Aria got the hang of the rhythm and got better.

“There you go. You’re a fast learner.”

Aria chuckled and shook her head, “I don’t know why you keep putting up with me your highness.”

John grinned at her.

_Because I’ve fallen in love with you. That’s why._

Mary had been observing John and Aria for the longest time. Her second son was clearly bewitched by the commoner. She knows not what the commoner has that have sent her sons’ tongues wagging but she knew that if John were to court Aria and make her his wife, it would not be disastrous as having Henry marrying her.

She had been crossed when Henry brushed off the negotiations to take the Princess of France as his wife. When she demanded a reason why, Henry had evidently lied through his teeth when he said that he did not wish to stall the war and Charles VI was merely dangling a carrot in front of an uninterested stallion. She knew her son had probably had an illicit affair with the commoner and she had bewitched him.

* * *

 

It had been a long day and Aria was retiring early. There was a knock on the door and then silence. Curious, Aria opened the small latch acting as a peephole. She was surprised to see the Dowager Queen’s bright blue eyes staring back at her.

“Your highness!” She quickly unbolted the door and opened it wide, “Please come in.”

Mary was pursing her lips, forming them into a thin line. She stared at Beth and gestured her to leave the room. As soon as Beth left, she shut the door and motioned Aria deeper into the room.

Aria wringed her hands as she followed the Queen further into the room. She had never had a one-on-one conversation with her and this woman is just intimidating.

“I came here for the truth.”She paused and she turned towards Aria slowly. “Nothing but the truth.”

“Pardon your highness?”

“As much as my son wants to hide and evade, he cannot hide the obvious!”

Aria flinched. She had never flinched in her life before. Scared, yes. Nervous yes. But she has never flinched before.

“What is your relationship with my son, the King?!”

Aria mustered enough courage to look at the Queen squarely in her eyes. She didn’t answer.

Mary heaved a sigh, “You foolish girl. Do you think you can marry my son and be his queen?”

It was as if the queen had etched those very words slowly into her skin with a carving knife.

Aria didn’t answer. The blinding pain, the disappointment and the weight of reality suddenly became overwhelming.

There was a long pause between the two women.

Then Aria whispered, her voice, pained, “I love him.”

“Oh you foolish girl. Just because you love someone, doesn’t mean you marry him!”

Aria stared at the queen, eyes watering. She tried hard not to let the tears fall down her cheeks.

Mary inched closer. “Name your price.”

A tear fell on Aria’s cheek, “What?”

“I can give you my wealth silly girl, but not my son. Not the King. Now, name me your price!” Mary spat.

“What do you take me for? A whore?” Aria cried.

Mary rolled her eyes and looked at her haughtily in response.

“Get out.”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“I said: Get. Out.” Aria opened the door and glared at the Dowager Queen.

“This will not be the last you heard from me,” Mary snarled.

Aria slammed the door hard. Slowly, she slid down to the stone cold floor, gathered her knees and cried.


	13. Chapter 13

Henry banged his fist against the table in the council room.

“First, an assassination plot and now this!” He gestured angrily towards the chest that was filled with tennis balls.

The Dauphin of France had sent tennis balls in response to Henry’s claims to the French Throne. When his uncle had revealed what the chest had contained, Henry could feel blind rage enveloping his body. He had the urge to throw one of the tennis balls to the French Ambassador’s face but decided against it.

The trial in Southampton had taken longer than expected. By the time the verdict was given where all three men were found guilty, Henry was sure his family including Aria was due in England anytime. The three men were executed according to their classes (Richard of Conisburgh and Henry Scrope were beheaded and Sir Thomas Grey drawn, hanged and quartered). During Sir Thomas Grey’s execution, Henry was reminded painfully of Aria’s words when his corpse was quartered. But a punishment for high treason is essential to maintain order – to show the rest that if anyone crossed him, there will only be severe punishment.

Aria and his family had returned to the castle for a few days now. He hadn’t heard from any of them and none of them had made contact or tried to look for him. Meals were taken separately due to the immense amount of time spent with his councilmen. He had missed Aria terribly but retired to his own bed at night as he needed his own space to think. He found it strange that she hadn’t look for him but perhaps she decided not to distract him.

“I cannot stand to be ridiculed in my own court! We shall proceed with our campaign to France. No further delays.”

The councilmen turned to each other and started to banter.

“But exactly when, my liege?” Lord of Canterbury asked.

Henry turned to the councilmen and scanned all of their faces. He frowned as he looked down at the table and slowly sat down. There was an unsure murmur amongst the men as Henry massaged his temples, his fingers gently nudging the cold gold crown sitting atop of his head.

“Get a fleet of ships ready to sail to France within two weeks.”

* * *

 

Aria hadn’t spoken a word to anybody ever since the Dowager Queen had visited her. When she hugged Philipa goodbye, her eyes glistened with moisture and gave the new Queen of Sweden a feeble smile. She avoided everyone at all cost during the trip back to England. Whenever she wanted to talk or to pour out her feelings to someone, she felt as if her guts were being kicked in. She was ‘saved’ by the fainting spells the Queen had during the voyage. Everyone was busy minding her health and making sure she was taken care of, ignoring Aria totally.

When lessons started to resume, she requested Lady Kensington to make the library out of bounds during the lessons. She explained that she didn’t want to be disturbed but to be honest, she just didn’t want to bump into John since he usually pop by to find out how she’s doing during those classes. During that week, the ache of being lonely had been eating Aria up slowly.

She hadn’t slept peacefully since the return as well. She snoozed lightly, waking up at every little noise during the night. Tonight was not any different. She felt irritated with herself and kept turning underneath the sheets.

Suddenly she felt a compression against the mattress and an arm slithered around her middle. Henry propped himself up, his hand still around her middle.

“My love, you’ve been tossing around, are you alright?”

Aria gulped. How could she not have noticed that Henry was beside her? She shook her head and snuggled closer.

“I didn’t notice you’re here.”

Even in the darkness, Aria could make out that Henry was smiling affectionately at her.

“I was quiet. Plus you were in a deep slumber so I decided not to bother you.”

He nuzzled her cheek. She reached out to touch his face and felt his chin. “You grew a beard?”

Henry chuckled softly, “Trust me my love, I look better in daylight.”

She managed a feeble smile.

“How was the wedding?”

Aria didn’t answer and laid head close to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. After being apart for so long, listening to his heart beating steadily was comforting. Henry embraced her and began to tug on her chemise. She let out a short giggle and took off her chemise over her head, tossing it off the sheets.

“Much better.” Henry did not seem to notice that she had ignored his question. He leaned in and kissed her lips gently. It’s been far too long and he needed her. He dragged himself away; pressed his forehead against hers before kissing her again and again with short kisses that made Aria shiver with anticipation for the longer kisses that were sure to come. He palmed her breasts, rubbing her nipples, making them hard.

She felt him getting aroused between her thighs and hooked up a leg over his hips. Henry abandoned her breasts and let his hand trail down her back, feeling her soft baby skin, making her shudder with anticipation. He placed his hand at her bottoms, pulling her up slightly before crashing his lips against hers, kissing her passionately again. He slipped his hands in between them, his fingers finding the bundle of nerves. He pressed on it, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. He moved his fingers in a circular motion, enjoying the way she writhes against his touch.

“Hal-” she gasped.

Smirking, Henry abandoned her sensitive clit and lined up his cock to her soaked entrance and pushed into her gently. He kissed her again, this time, his tongue demanding entrance. She moaned in his mouth, gripping his strong shoulders as he slipped in deeper, stretching her wider. His hands went up to her breasts again as he remained sheathed in her.

“Is this alright my love?”

“God. Yes –”

She bucked her hips against him as he grinded himself inside her before rocking his hips, thrusting in and out of her slowly and deliberately.

Aria gasped again, moaning his name, “Hal… Harder –”

He gripped onto her waist as his strokes became harder and faster. Her moans drove him crazy as he made her roll onto her back, pinning her against the bed. He paused to look at her beautiful face. Her eyes were clouded with desire, cheeks flushed with her lips slightly gaping.

Aria whined, “Who asked you to stop?”

Henry grinned as he kissed her passionately, entering her again and resumed thrusting into her erratically. Aria wrapped her legs around his waist, moving against him, meeting his thrusts. They were both moaning into each other’s mouths, holding onto each other with sheer desperation, nearing the edge.

“My love –” Henry huffed, breaking the kiss, before feeling his eyes roll back, his mouth gaping slightly as he continued pounding with her clenching and unclenching over him. Aria trembled against him as she felt the first waves of her climax course through her body; she bucked her hips against him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she felt a faint pulse of his own climax, sending her over the edge again.

They lay entangled for a few moments catching their breath, hearts pounding and bodies covered in sheen of sweat.

“Stay with me tonight?” Aria whispered into his ear. He pulled away to look at her.

_There was something wrong. But what?_

Henry nodded. “I will.” He kissed her forehead gently.

“But, my love, you haven’t told me how was my sister’s wedding.”

He could feel her stiffen in his arms. Aria hesitated as the memory of the Queen looking at her haughtily flashed in front of her eyes. Henry opened his mouth to probe her again but decided against it. Asking Aria what was bothering her when she’s hesitating is like poking a bee hive with a stick. He knew that if he pursued the matter, she would probably throw a tantrum and that would just spoil everything.

He rolled off, laying on his side and gathered her in his arms. She willingly let him take her and snuggled close to his chest.

“Philippa had a wedding that every girl has dreamed of,” Aria spoke against his chest. Her eyelashes were tickling him lightly as she fluttered them.

“She’s in good hands. There’s no need to worry.”

Henry let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh that’s good to hear… Did you enjoy yourself though?”

Aria was lost for words. She was torn whether to tell him what had transpired between her and his mother.

Aria shrugged in his arms, “It was alright.”

* * *

 

Prince John of Lancaster was three years younger than his brother, the King. Unlike Henry, he had always been an obedient son; the filial one – the responsible one. When their father was alive, he had been present in the council, supporting the ailing king when it comes to politics. He had seen the old king slapping Henry across the face when he continued to make company with capering fools. He knew his brother had redeemed himself.

If only their father was here. He would have been proud.

* * *

 

_Henry was adorned in his ceremonial robes, crown atop of his head as he strode towards the bed. The Lords of England trailed behind him. Humphrey stood to the side, comforting Philippa who was crying. Blanche could only wring her hands as she watched her eldest brother approach. John was holding their mother’s hand to his chest, whispering to her._

_“What happened?”_

_“My lord, Mother collapsed as soon you were crowned King,” John spoke, his voice, distraught._

_“Have we gotten Sir Bradmore, the physician to take a look?” Henry said, hurriedly._

_“Yes!” Humphrey interjected, “But he couldn’t figure out what happened.”_

_Henry sighed exasperatedly. Unexplainable illnesses are not uncommon. Henry didn’t want to engage in witchcraft in order to discover what his mother ails from. He just wants her well._

_“My Lord, there are rumours that deep in the forest of Portsmouth, there lays an enchanted spring that would cure anything,” Lord Exeter revealed._

_Henry turned towards his uncle, “Then I must find this spring to cure her!”_

_“Wouldn’t it be better if Prince John could lead some of the men to search for this spring?”_

_“Uncle is right, my King. You’ve just been crowned, you have more urgent matters to handle,” John coaxed, supporting his uncle._

_Henry dipped his head, uncertain. He scanned the room and gulped. “I’m afraid between you and I brother, you have the upper hand in handling these political matters. I am ashamed of admitting to this and I know I will sound foolish, but I think without your guidance as well as the councilmen I would be clueless in my kingship.”_

_John nodded, “Are you saying that you will leave the matters concerning England to me when you search for this spring, my lord?”_

_Henry stared at John for a moment and nodded. “I shall empower you the power to act on my behalf when I’m gone.”_

_Henry spun around towards the Lords of England, “My Lords, summon the cartographers. We need England’s map to plot out way towards this spring.”_

* * *

 

John was not oblivious. He knew there was something between his brother and Aria. He noticed the looks they gave each other, their body language towards one another. If he was right, that would explain why his brother had thrown him out of the library when he was jesting with Aria. It would explain why she had pulled away when he leaned in for a kiss back in Sweden. And it would definitely explain why the King has been sneaking into her room in the middle of the night.

He was alarmed when he saw Henry the other night. The memory of his brother opening the door and slipping in was enough to cause a pang in his heart. As much as he wanted to be repulsed and enraged, he knew that his brother had not just brought Aria back to the castle just because he was indebted to her. It was obvious he had other motives.

He pushed himself the wall and paced towards his bed. He sat upon it and placed his head onto his hands.

_Why didn’t I insist on finding the spring? I would have been the one who met Aria. I would be the one who has captured her heart. Is this the curse of being the second in line?_

John sighed, exasperated. As he lifted his head up, he knew he has to confront the King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut written by the lovely JayMckins


	14. Chapter 14

Henry was sitting at the head of the table in an empty council room. His right hand was fiddling with a quill while the other was massaging his left temple. He wrote a few more lines before putting the papers away, arranging them.

The heavy oak door creaked open and footsteps were heard. Henry didn’t lift his head up.

The footsteps stopped and a figure appeared at the corner of his eye.

“When were you going to tell me that you leave for France in 2 weeks?!”

“Sit down, Aria.”

Aria folded her arms and frowned. “No.”

“Fine by me.”

Henry set the papers down and looked up.

“I wanted to tell you tonight.”

“Hal, you should have told me straightaway!”

“Even if I have, what can you do?” Henry implored. His voice was exasperated. Aria didn’t know how to respond. What can she do? This is not an ordinary mission, its war. If he leaves, dies in France what would happen to her?

Aria huffed and unfolded her arms, “Take me with you.”

“What?!” Henry was flabbergasted.  _She can’t be serious._

“If you are jesting Aria, I suggest you stop.”

“I’m not!” Aria cried, frustrated.

“Then why do you want  _me_  to take you along?! This is not another journey, or a vacation. This is a war!”

“Do you really think I can’t differentiate between those two?!” Aria argued.

“Aria Baudouin! You can’t go to war! I forbid you!” Henry pleaded.

“I don’t care!”

“How dare you defy the King’s orders?! You’re a woman, you can’t go to war!”

“How dare you undermine me because of my gender?! Have you forgotten who saved you 6 months ago?!”

Henry was taken aback. This woman is crazy. No woman has ever gone to war. But she was right. She single-handedly defeated a group of men without any help and trained his archers. But she’s still a woman.

“I…I’m not…” Henry relented.

He turned away from her, stood up and paced towards a high ceilinged window, his back facing her.

“Hal?” Aria appeared beside him, concerned.

“I know you’re capable. I know you’re strong but it’s too dangerous. This is a war Aria. I can’t afford to lose you.” His voice softened as he remembered the time when he went back to her village and found her hut burnt down.

“And you think I’ll be better be in this castle, waiting for you to come back? Sitting around in this castle every day, pretending all is well, not knowing what has happened to you?”

“At least you’re safe.”

“To hell with being safe! I want to be with you. I want to fight alongside you.”

“ARIA!” Henry bellowed, infuriated.

“Do you understand the circumstances?! IT’S A BLOODY WAR. He leaned forward and growled, “You. Might. Die.”

“And you?” Aria whispered. “You might die too.”

Henry was stumped for a moment.

He took a step back, folded his hands behind his back and looked away. Neither of them said anything to each other for some time.

Henry felt Aria wrap her arms around him from the back. He covered her hands with his.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” she whispered in his ear.

She could feel him heave a sigh. “Please. I’m competent enough. I want to be by your side. If I come along, I’d be informed of you.”

He was silent, contemplating on her words. He has to find another way to prevent this, “But the lords…” he started.

“I’ll speak to Lord Exeter myself.”

There was no way to dissuade her. Typical Aria, once her mind is set, nothing can change it.

“Alright.” Henry said reluctantly.

She could feel him going slack in her arms as he gave her his unenthusiastic approval. Henry closed his eyes as she kissed him on the cheek and felt her hands release him.

_Oh what have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

“My lord, I heard that the men are to leave for France in 2 weeks,” Aria said; later that day during her usual appointment with the men and Lord Exeter.

Exeter nodded and had a sad smile on his withered face.

“Aye… The King ordered it. We need to gather more men really. The ones we have probably not enough.”

_Aha! Time to make use of this information and twist the truth just a little._

“Well that too I’ve heard. Which is why I have asked the King to allow me to follow the entourage in France.”

Exeter whirled to face her. His face was stunned.

“M- m- my lady…The king agreed?”

Aria smiled at him coolly and nodded. “You can ask him yourself.”

Exeter seemed flustered “No, no. There’s no need to.”

“It’s settled then!” Aria grinned as she left her post to approach some of the men.

 

* * *

“Where are we going?” Aria asked as she followed John from behind.

John had greeted her during her class with Lady Kensington and told the elder lady that Aria is excused from classes from now on. She was told to return to her room where Beth and Margret were waiting for her. Apparently Henry had armour made for her, complete with leather trousers, boots, a breastplate and chainmail. They took almost an hour to get Aria in that uncomfortable armour.

“The council told me you were joining us for our campaign to France.”

Aria nodded, walking rigidly, uncomfortable in her new clothes. John laughed at her facial expressions.

“I see the clothes are making you feel uncomfortable?”

“How does one walk in these leather trousers?”

John chuckled some more. “You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Aria huffed.

“Maybe you need to squat and stretch your legs so your trousers can be a little loose,” John suggested.

Aria cocked up an eyebrow and shrugged. They stopped in the middle of the plain field and John beckoned for her to come forward.

“What is this for?” Aria implored when John gave her a slim long wooden plank that resembles a sword.

“For your sword fighting lessons!”

Aria stared at him. He grinned, “And I’m your teacher!” John exclaimed, withdrawing his own wooden sword.

“I don’t need a sword; I have my bow and arrows!”

John smiled, “One can never deny your prowess in archery my lady but when there’s a fleet of soldiers charging towards you, you can’t simply aim and shoot at close proximity; especially when you’re on the ground if you ever lose your horse.”

Aria thought about his words.

“You’re right.”

John winked at her, “I know.”

 

* * *

Aria trained with John for the following week. Occasionally Henry will visit them, standing at the side, observing her. There were times when he swore at John when he struck her too hard and interrupted the lesson when Aria and John had come close into contact with each other during the sparring. Sometimes he will shoo John away and take over.

As the days went by, Aria got stronger and quicker. Due to her smaller frame than John, she was able to move swiftly and strike him at the weak spots he had been pointing out to her during their lessons. She was much more comfortable in the sparring outfit although she wished the chainmail wasn’t heavy.

“Considering you were only at this for a week and a half, I say lady, you’re ready for war.”

John was breathing shallowly, gently massaging his aching jaw after their sparring session. Aria had put up a good fight. When he made her lose her sword she used the opportunity to punch him in the jaw.

“My utmost apologies your highness,” Aria whispered as she pressed the cold, wet cloth against his jaw.

It was turning purple. John let out a short chuckle as he watched her nurse him. She had hurriedly called for Beth to bring a basin of cold water and clean cloths when John had landed on the ground, clutching his jaw, groaning in pain.

“It’s still intact. You have a mean swing,” John lamented, winking at her. Aria giggled.

“The King said the same thing when I punched him.”

That instantly changed John’s mood. Whenever Aria brought up Henry or when he comes to visit them, it was as if he had swallowed something bitter with a horrid aftertaste. John pulled her hands away and pushed himself off the ground. He dusted himself and straightened.

“We should go now. It’s near sundown.”

_Strange. Whenever I mention Hal, he retracts back. Did they have a fight?_

“John! Wait!”

Aria gathered their swords and shields before catching up with him.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Aria asked, concerned.

John nodded, avoiding eye contact.

“Did the King give you a hard time because you gave me that bruise below my ribs the other day?”

John halted.

“Well, I got a lecture… But he understands that I did not do it on purpose.”

“Oh… Good… But why do you always evade from me whenever we talk about your brother… the King?”

“You mean, when you talk about him…” John muttered under his breath.

“What?” Aria probed.

John continued walking, ignoring her.

Aria quickened her steps and rounded him up. “John, what did he do to you?”

John halted once more.

_How can I possibly tell you? That I confronted him? About you? How do I tell you that loving him will just guarantee you heartache in the end? How do I tell you that I love you? How do I tell you all of that? How?_

He shrugged, “My brother is a complex man. He is THE King. Talking about him as if he is a casual acquaintance makes me uncomfortable.”

_Wow John. Give yourself a clap won’t you? A really good lie you have conjured there!_

“Oh… I didn’t realise that.” Aria looked at him through her eyelashes apologetically.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

John gulped. He hated lying.

Especially to the woman he loves.

 

* * *

_The councilmen emptied the room, retiring for the day. They murmured their goodbyes to one another, nodded towards the King and headed out. All left except for John and Henry. Henry had sat upon the head of the table, scrutinising the paperwork laid in front of him. John, who was exchanging his last words with his uncle, thought it was time. He bowed to Lord Exeter, saying his goodbyes, ordered for the guards to leave the room._

_Henry looked up as John ordered the guards away and bolted the door after them._

_“What bothers you Brother John?”_

_The only times John had done so is when he was troubled and wanted a private conversation with Henry. Most of the time it was because of politics or family matters. But this time around, Henry could feel that something was amiss._

_John didn’t answer right away. He didn’t know where to start. He hated confrontation but this had to be done._

_“Hal, what is your relationship with Lady Baudouin?”_

_Henry clicked his tongue, “I see that we abandoning the formalities.”_

_“Answer me, brother,” John said, his voice slightly wavering._

_“What business of yours to know about my relationships?”_

_John sighed, “I saw you sneaking into her room in the middle of the night, Hal.”_

_“If you have already seen that, must I really say something to you?” Henry said, emotionless._

_“If you are having a relationship with her Hal, if you truly are in love with her, you shouldn’t have been sneaking into her room. You shouldn’t be sneaking around to have your love affair!”_

_Henry was dumbfounded. He wasn’t trying to hide her!_

_Or was he?_

_“Whatever do you mean?” Henry stood up suddenly, dragging the heavy oak chair backwards noisily._

_He strode towards John and stood directly in front of his younger brother._

_“You know what I meant,” John growled._

_Henry didn’t respond. He stared murderously at John, unable to form words to explain himself._

_“You’re afraid Mother would disapprove aren’t you?” John whispered harshly._

_Henry backed away slowly, still taken aback._

_“Answer me brother! Are you so worried that Mother would disapprove that you’ve resorted to sneaking around?” John raised his voice._

_“If you have known all of the answers, Brother John, why do you even bother speaking to me?!” Henry stressed._

_“Because I wanted to hear from the horse’s mouth itself.”_

_They both stared at each other and didn’t say anything._

_Finally Henry broke the silence._

_“Yes, I worry that Mother would disapprove. Yes, I’ve been sneaking around. And yes…” Henry paused for a moment._

_John held his breath, waiting for Henry’s next confession._

_“I’m in love with Lady Baudouin and we’re having an affair.”_

_He looked up to John. Expecting his brother to lash out, but he didn’t._

_“If you really love her brother,” John started with his voice slightly cracking, “I suggest you tell her that we’re leaving for France in 2 weeks.”_

_He turned away from Henry and walked towards the door, unbolted it and opened. He paused before walking out and turned slightly, as if to say something._

_But he didn’t._


	15. Chapter 15

She darted out of her room silently.

Grabbing the hood of her heavy fur cloak, she threw it over and held it close to her face, covering it. She glided down the winding steps and towards the enormous doors. She gestured for the guards to let her out and they hesitantly unbolted them.

Almost jogging towards the stables, she grabbed the straddle and threw it on a brown mare. The brown mare neighed defiantly as she hoisted herself up. It kicked its hoofs but she kicked the mare sharply, making it charge out of the stables, neighing.

The journey towards her destination was not difficult. She had been here countless of times. But it has been a very long time since she last visited. The mare neighed and kicked, refusing to enter into the darker parts of the forest. When she forced the horse again, it kicked up high, dangerously tipping her over. She huffed angrily, throwing her legs over, pushing herself off the horse. She tied the mare to a nearby tree, patted its head before giving it an apple. As troublesome as the mare can be, the animal has brought her to her destination after all.

She straightened herself, adjusted her cloak and started to walk down the narrow dead lane that leads her to her destination. The leaves and twigs creaked beneath her weight. She could hear owls hooting and the lonely howls of a wolf. Her heart thumped quicker as the sight of the dingy hut appeared. Smoke was piping out of its chimney and a soft orange candlelight was glowing brightly from the inside. She reached forwards and knocked.

The odd-shaped door of the hut opened noisily. An old woman dressed shabbily with a dirty, greasy dress greeted her.

“You should oil your door Merida,” she scoffed at the older woman. The old woman grinned, baring her toothless mouth. Merida was badly hunched-back, her white hair was kept in a messy bun with long nails hanging over her withered hands. She looked at her visitor and clicked her tongue.

“Always the one to comment aren’t ye?!” Merida hissed as she teetered over a tiny cauldron at the corner of the hut.

She followed Merida and cringed up her nose as she took a sniff out of the cauldron. The liquid in it was boiling. Thick, murky bubbles were reluctantly popping as Merida stirred it.

“Is the potion ready?” she asked.

“Tut, tut, of course it is, dearie,” Merida replied, taking a small glass container from her filthy shelf above the fireplace. She blew off the dust before scooping up the thick potion, pouring it into the glass. She located a cork and capped it.

“Where is me gold?!” Merida demanded.

She laughed haughtily at the old woman, “I always keep my promise Merida.” She dug out the pieces of gold and flung them on the table.

“Although what would you do with the gold is questionable,” she added.

Merida ignored her comment, counting the gold greedily. When she was done, Merida looked up and nodded her approval.

“That potion has a side effect if ye use it frequently. I hope ye know what ye doing old friend,” Merida muttered.

She grabbed the glass from Merida’s withered hands and tucked it into her pouch. She rolled her eyes at the old woman and proceeded to throw the hood to the back, revealing her face.

“Of course I know what I’m doing!”

She walked towards the door and paused before leaving the old woman.

“I am Mary de Bohun, The Dowager Queen of England.  _I_  always know what I’m doing.”

* * *

 

“Are you all packed, my lady?” asked John, after their last sparring session.

Aria shook her head, still panting erratically. She had her palms to her knees; loose strands of hair had escaped from her braid and were strewn over her muddied face. Her bottom lip was bleeding from the small cut John gave. John was no better. Aria had managed to give him a couple of punches to his eye and ribs, including a shallow scrape at the shin. His face was muddied as well, his eye was turning purple.

It had been an intense sparring session. John decided to use real swords and even though they were careful not to hit one another’s bare flesh, it was inevitable. John approached her, producing a soft handkerchief from a pouch and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” Aria muttered as she applied pressure to the wound.

“You know, you were right before. You don’t need a sword. Your fists are enough!” John joked.

Aria poked her tongue out, “Told you so.”

John laughed, “This is our last session. We need rest and for our wounds to heal a few days before sailing.”

Aria nodded. Henry had told her about the dates and even informed her that they will be attacking a city named Harfleur once they landed.

They picked up their swords and shields and headed towards the castle.

“I was told that I’ll be given a couple more pants and breastplates in these few days,” Aria said, answering his question.

“Aye, that’s good to hear. No point seeing you running around in a dress fighting off men,” John teased as he rubbed the sore spot below his ribs. He was sure it will turn blue-black soon enough. Her punches were surprisingly powerful despite her being a lady with a slight frame.

Aria hit his arm playfully, “You think I can’t fight wearing a dress?!”

He feigned being hurt, clutching his arm. But Aria didn’t fall for it. She threatened to hit him again and he backed away, laughing.

“No, no! I wouldn’t dare!” John remarked, winking at her.

* * *

 

Aria was in Henry’s arms later that night. They had made gentle love. It was much more intimate and loving – soft, deep kisses and caressing. Henry was careful not to cause her anymore discomfort, just pleasure. He gently traced the curve of her waist to her hips with the tip of his fingers, trailing down to the porcelain thigh, causing her to shiver. Aria snuggled closer, laying her head to his chest listening to his heartbeat.

“Are you afraid?” she murmured against his skin, referring to the impending campaign.

Henry kissed the top of her head, breathing in her scent of apple blossoms and ylang ylang.

“No… Wars and battles will always be part of my life. Ever since I was a teenager…”

He placed a hand on her cheek, tilting her head to look up at him. His bright blue eyes seem to gleam in the soft candlelight.

“It’s you that I’m afraid for.”

Aria nuzzled the tip of her nose to his, “I’m capable of fighting. You don’t have to be worried about me.”

He opened his mouth to say something but she kissed his lips softly, stopping him.

Aria pulled away reluctantly, “I will be fine. I promise.”

A reluctant smile hooked onto Henry’s lips as he nodded, pulling her closer to him, stealing some of her warmth. He held Aria in his arms as she was slowly lulled to sleep. Even though he was comfortable beside the woman he loves, tucked underneath the warm covers, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep.

His mind was still reeling from what happened earlier that day. Henry had informed his mother on his decision to bring Aria along for the campaign in France and reasoned that they could use an expert archer for some of the experienced men. He was taken aback when she had screamed at him, calling him foolish for allowing a woman and his loins to mess with his head.

At first he thought she was concerned about Aria’s stature as a lady of the court but as they fought, it seems that Mary had known about their affair and was dead set against it. When he retorted back, Mary had accused Aria for using witchcraft to manipulate his mind.

He had never fought with his mother. Shouting rows resulting in physicality with Henry IV – yes; but never with the Queen. He had never seen Mary flushed with anger, screaming at the top of her voice – screaming at him. The more they argued the angrier he got and decided to walk away from her.

He refused to believe what she claimed. She had no proof. Aria wasn’t capable of any witchcraft. He thought about the stories she told him about how she had managed to save her village from the dark ones. But the invisibility spell was casted on her by her foster mother. Not herself. He clenched his fists, frowning. Curse mother for causing him to think this of Aria.

She may be the Dowager Queen but she has no power to dictate his life anymore.

* * *

 

Mary held the small glass tube containing the potion that she had Merida brewed. She knew engaging in witchcraft was wrong but it had to be done. Henry just refused to listen to her, defending the commoner. She was sure Aria had engaged in witchcraft as well. No noble would take a commoner off the streets and shower her with the luxury of education and so much more just because she saved his life. She must have manipulated his mind with witchcraft.

She regretted allowing Henry to visit the commoner again. She thought he had wanted to present her with treasures in gratitude for what she had done but bringing her back was not the plan.

Mary pushed the doors of the kitchen open. The kitchen was stuffy and humid despite the pleasant aromas piping from the cauldrons.

“Your highness!” Lloyd squeaked.

Mary turned at the sound and eyed the young boy who was covered in soot and grime. Lloyd Tiller was one of the King’s squires and during times when there were no battles, he helped in the kitchen as well. He gaped at Mary warily – clearly afraid of her.

“Come here,” Mary beckoned sternly.

Lloyd gingerly approached the Queen, wringing his hands. She placed the potion in the boy’s grimy hands.

“One drop in all of the King’s meals; even when he is to set sail to France, you continue doing so. Understand?”

Lloyd nodded with his eyes wide _. What was this for?_

Mary dug a few silver coins and held it out to him. At first he was hesitant but when Mary sighed and rolled her eyes impatiently, he grabbed the money, hastily pushing them into his front pocket.

“No word to anyone about this arrangement,” she hissed.

He nodded, frightened, “Ye – yes my Queen.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer! There will be famous war scenes from the play in this chapter and I thought it’d be shame not to use the famous Henry V speeches from the original play! Of course I did tweak it a bit for those who don’t really understand Shakespearean English. Enjoy!

Aria smiled at the stableman as he unshackled the stables for her to enter. She curtsied him briefly before making her way to Redfire.

The horse neighed at her and huffed.

“Oh, I missed you too boy.”

She hadn’t ridden a horse ever since she was brought back here and rarely visited Redfire due to her busy schedule. She gave the stallion an apple and continued to stroke his head as he snapped at the fruit. Aria caressed the horse, feeling the slight roughness of its reddish-brown coat. She patted his muzzle before he nipped her hand.

“Yes, yes I’ve been neglecting you. Now stop biting me!” Aria chided before proceeding to untangle his mane and comb his coat.

There was shuffling in another stall. Aria didn’t pay attention to it until Redfire neighed and moved forwards, turning his head to gesture Aria to the stall beside his.

Aria clicked her tongue at him but obliged nonetheless. She left Redfire’s stall, entering the one beside his. A brown mare was on the floor, shuffling awkwardly away. She neighed and grunted. Aria observed the mare, trying to figure out what was wrong until she saw what was bothering the steed. Dried blood was plastered on the coat of her flank. Aria steadily inched closer not wanting to frighten the beautiful beast. She gingerly inspected the wound. It seemed that someone had kicked the mare very hard, drawing blood.

 _How could someone be so cruel?_  ”There, there, you’ll be alright girl.”

She called for the stable hands to bring her some medicine, a basin of water and cloths. The mare grunted and whinnied as she cleaned the wound and applied the medicine.

“My lady, please be careful. She might kick you!” squeaked one of the stable hands.

Aria patted the horse, soothed her flank as she nursed it. She wiped the perspiration on her nose when she was done.

“How come you didn’t notice the wound on the mare?” Aria asked as she puts away the basin, cleaning her hands.

“M- my lady… Ap- apologies m- my –l-lady…” the stable hand stuttered.

Aria shrugged, “Just take care of the mare. The wound is not that deep but still needs dressing.”

He nodded as she went back to Redfire’s stall and continued grooming him.

* * *

 

“You’re bringing Redfire to France?” Henry asked. They were sitting in one of the tents set up in the plains for the army to be ready.

“Redfire has been with me since I was 15. Plus I’m not comfortable on another horse.”

Henry combed his fingers through his hair, slightly frowning, “The chances of us losing our horses are second to none.”

Aria shrugged and pursed her lips, “I know,” she muttered. Henry laced his fingers around hers. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Aria gave him a small smile and they fell silent.

“Do you know of a brown mare in the stables – The one that has a black marking on its forehead?” Aria asked, breaking the silence.

Henry’s features were pinched as he thought hard and sat up straighter, “The one beside Redfire?” Aria nodded.

“Oh, that must be Aurel. She’s an old mare belonging to my mother. Why?”

“She was wounded - in her flank. I nursed her just now, so she should be fine.”

“Wounded in the flank you say?” Aria nodded. “That’s peculiar. Nobody has ridden Aurel for years. But you did inform the stable hands? To care for Aurel?”

Aria nodded again, reassuring him.

_For years? Then who kicked the poor horse so hard? If Aurel belongs to the Queen, then only the Queen rode her. But…_

Aria opened her mouth to say something. She looked up and saw Henry looking back at her expectantly. But she shook her head as if to clear her mind, “Never mind.”

She arranged the papers in front of her and rolled them up. For a split second Henry felt irritated. He hates it when she walled herself up, her expression unreadable.

They were waiting for Lord Exeter’s return from France. He was sent there to have last negotiations with King Charles – one last negotiation before all hell breaks loose. A squire had informed them earlier that Lord Exeter was making his way back to the castle. He was expected to arrive anytime soon. The flaps of the tent ruffled and John came through.

“My liege, he’s here.”

The three of them came out of the tent out to the cold field. It had been a foggy day, the ground was hard and cold and the air pinched at their faces. Lord Exeter pushed himself off his horse and strode towards Henry. He nodded at John and Aria.

“My liege,” Lord Exeter bowed his head, greeting Henry.

“What news do you bring us, good Uncle Exeter?”

“The French King refused your claims, my liege. Instead he offers his youngest daughter, Princess Katherine.”

Henry held his head high, lightly biting the inside of his cheeks, clearly annoyed. He glances at Aria before answering his uncle.

“I’m not interested in the French princess. If that’s what the French has to offer, the campaign shall move forward as planned.”

* * *

 

They rode out to Brighthelmstone where the fleet of ships were waiting for Henry and army. Aria kept close to Henry, together with John and Lord Exeter.

The voyage to France through the English Channel took them a day and a half. The winds were kind and the sea was calm. Once they have reached the French shores, Captain MacMorris began to bellow out orders to the men to find a suitable plot to set camp. Aria managed to squeeze her way out of the busy ship. Henry, John and the Lords of England huddled together, discussing their strategy. Aria decided not to interrupt them and made way towards the men who were bringing the horses to shore. She identified Redfire and took him over from a gangly squire with a scar across his left cheek.

The plan was to march to Harfleur and attack its fortress at night. But seeing that the French were informed first hand and that Harfleur was known to be a formidable fortress, Henry predicted that there will be a challenging resistance ahead of them. Lord Exeter was tasked to take charge of the archers and Aria went along with him. His wise wrinkly face was grim and his jaw was set as they gathered round the archers.

Aria identified a few men to gather their weapons as the others made camp. Exeter nodded at her, beckoning her to join the men in the tent that was just set up minutes ago. When she entered, the men were huddled around a makeshift round table. Maps and paperwork were strewn all over the table, with Henry leaning his weight on it.

“Uncle Exeter, you and Lady Baudouin are to counterattack the French when they resist us,” John instructed.

“The walls of Harfleur are high, do we have enough armouries to climb over them?” asked Aria.

Henry glanced at Aria, annoyed. He glowered at her.  _What kind of a question is that?! Of course we do!_

He folded his arms and rolled his eyes, “We should have more than enough to filtrate through the city.”

The men around the table murmured their approval. Aria didn’t seem to notice his response.

Henry unfolded his arms and placed his palms on the table, taking in their sombre faces.

“We move at midnight.”

* * *

 

“Who allowed you this ale?” Aria raised her voice to a group of grubby men sitting around the fire. She snatched the calfskin canteen from their hands and emptied the contents to the ground. They groaned.

“Ye’re wasting good ale there!”

“What do ye think ye’re doing?”

They were clearly drunk. Their eyes were bloodshot, faces flushed and voices slurry.

“Shame on all of you! We are going at war and the first thing you do before fighting is to get filthy drunk?!”

One of them stood up groggily and waved his hands at her. “Well, we have no interest in a war!”

“Then what are you doing here?!” Aria cried, outraged.  _These men! Such a disgrace!_

“The King needed men, we go! But we have no care for this! What does this have to do with us?!”

“We don’t want any French land! The King does! Why does he have to drag all of we lads into it?!”

Aria was left speechless. Their opinions were valid despite them being against the King. She flung the canteen angrily at them and walked away. Her mind was still reeling from what had just occurred when John stopped her.

“Aria, the archers are to move together with the party attacking the walls. Uncle Exeter has been informed. Keep close to him.”

She nodded, not saying anything and was about to walk before he caught her wrist. She turned to him and stared at him expectantly.

“Please stay alive?” he said, his voice cracking. There was apparent fear in his eyes and his grim expression didn’t help the situation. She patted his shoulder awkwardly and grinned.

“Jesus, you and your brother are girls disguised as men,” she teased, hoping it would lighten the mood. John smiled at her feebly and released her hand.

_You don’t know how much it kills me to know that we might just die without saying goodbye…_

“But on a serious note,” she relented, “I will.”

She punched him lightly on the arm. “Stay alive too alright?” she said. Without him expecting it, she came close, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

* * *

 

Henry had adorned his full armour. His hollow gold crown has been stowed away safely. He mounted his white steed and turned away from the army. The army was split into two major fleets. The one in front of him were on their feet. These ordinary soldiers – led by the Captain MacMorris would infiltrate the city and the men in the front row will climb over the walls of the fortress. The fleet behind were the archers.

Both fleets marched through the forest with a drummer leading their way, sounding a rhythmical, hypnotic beat. They marched till they could see the city’s walls towering over the trees. Henry led the troops further up the walls and nodded at MacMorris. He signalled the soldiers to charge up the small hill, leading to the city’s walls.

One by one, the ropes were thrown over, securely hooking in place. MacMorris nodded at the artillerymen as they light up the canons. The canons roared as shattered stone of the city’s enormous walls were smashed. They scaled the walls and jumped over the ledge, charging towards the guards, stabbing them to their deaths.

Unknown to them, the guards decided to bring over pots of boiling water and started to pour them over the wall, scalding those who were climbing. Blood curdling cries were heard as the men fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

Henry, who was overseeing the infiltration from a distance, rushed towards the ones behind the fallen men.

“Once more unto the breach, dear friends! ONCE MORE! Or close the wall up with our English dead.”*

Henry shook one of the soldiers as he continued, “In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man. As modest stillness and humility! But when the blast of war blows in our ears, imitate the action of the tiger! Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, and disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage!”*

The men stilled as Henry scanned all of them. Some of them were bleeding, their faces covered in soot. He gathered the men around him, grabbing the ones close to him by the front of their tunics.

“Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit to his full height! On, on, you noblest English! Dishonour not your mothers; now attest that those whom you called fathers did beget you. And teach them how to war!”* he roared.

Lord York appeared behind him and nodded at Henry encouragingly as he rallied the men.

“Follow your spirit! And upon this charge! CRY GOD FOR HARRY, ENGLAND, AND SAINT GEORGE!”*

The men yelled in response, dashing forward with their weapons raised high above their heads. The screams, cries and clanging of metal filled the air as the two opposing troops sparred.

One by one, the gunners light up the canons and fired the walls of the fort. A group of men carried the battering ram and lunged forward, forcing the gates of Harfleur to open.

* * *

 

By the crack of dawn, the city was successfully captured. Lord York had led several men to arrest the governor.

Henry mounted his grey steed and trotted towards the gate, entering the city. The men followed solemnly behind him. The governor of the town was on his knees, his hair unkempt, and clothes torn and covered in soot. He looked up at Henry with resignation.

“If you plan to resist us governor, I assure you the gates of my mercy will be shut up!” Henry glowered.

“Will you yield?! Or will you allow your city to be burnt to ashes, your elder men pulled by their silver beards, defile your shrill-shrieking daughters?!”

The governor winced as Henry spat. He held his hands up in surrender. “M- m- my city is n- n- no longer de- de- defensible great king,” he stuttered. “Tre- tre- treat us wi- wi- with m- mercy great king. We will yield.”

Satisfied with the governor’s answer, Henry held his head high and spoke almost softly, “Open you gates.”*

He turned to Exeter, “Come Uncle Exeter. Go you and enter Harfleur with the rest of them. Tonight in Harfleur we shall be guests and tomorrow continue with our march to Calais. Treat the people with mercy.”*

* * *

 

“Can’t sleep?”

They had set a temporary camp at the edge of the city, enabling them to ease into Calais come dawn. John was sitting on a log, facing a campfire. He shrugged as Aria settled beside him. She found a tavern in the town earlier and managed to bathe. Being a woman was much easier to navigate through the town without the locals shrieking away and shutting up the doors in their faces. Both of them sat in companionable silence.

John breathed in her scent of apple blossoms and ylang ylang.  _How does she even smell this good?_

“You managed to clean yourself,” he spoke.

“Aye. Found a tavern and the owner was surprisingly kind to me. To be honest, I think he didn’t expect a female soldier to gallivant in and ask to use the bath.”

John chuckled and looked up to the sky. Although their situation was solemn, the night sky was beautiful. Stars were scattered against the dark canvas, twinkling down at them.

“What will happen when we manage to march up to Paris and overthrow the French King?” Aria asked, almost afraid of what the future might hold.

“My lady, we haven’t even march up to Calais yet. We’re expecting the French army to besiege us there.”

“I know. But what happens after that?” Aria insisted.

John frowned and cleared his throat before answering, “Then my brother will become an English King of France.”

“Doesn’t he have to marry the French princess to be one?”

John stared at her. She wasn’t facing him but instead she was staring at the campfire, her expression, haunted. He didn’t know what to answer her.

“Remember he rejected the French King’s offer before we set sail?” John assured her.

“Aye, but that’s because he thinks the French just wants him to stop claiming what’s his. What if one of the conditions to be the King of France; is to marry the Princess of France?”

“I’m sure my brother is not capable of breaking your heart,” John gulped, not answering the question.

Aria stared down at her blistered hands. “I think he is,” she murmured.

_If only you were mine…I would not allow you to doubt me ever._

“He loves you dearly.”

“But he can’t marry someone who is not of noble birth…” Aria trailed.

“It is not the law… It’s just… No King has ever married a commoner…” The moment the words came out of his mouth, John immediately regretted it.

“Aria,” he said, his voice desperate and pained, “Just because no has ever done it, doesn’t mean it will never happen.”

A weak smile played on her lips. She squeezed his shoulders as she stood up, “I’ll turn in now your highness.”

* * *

 

The next morning the troops began their march through the countryside, towards Calais. The march was long and arduous. By the time the day became dusk, several men had fainted and had to be carried by others. A handful of them started to vomit, their faces pale as sheet. The food supply for the army had been dangerously depleting and they could not find any rivers during their march.

By the third day of marching, more than fifty men had died due to malnourishment and dysentery. The English army was dwindling as more and more men were sick.

Henry visited his army every night when they camp. He made sure his men were well rested but the fact that the food supply was not enough was worrying. One loaf of bread had to be shared with six to seven men. Luckily for them, Aria could remember some spells to conjure water. But water was not enough for a malnourished army.

The army had reached the plains near a village named Agincourt. By this time, Henry’s men were lessened by half. The councilmen were worried that if the French were to intercept their route, they would be defeated.

The morning was grey and foggy. The cold wind pinched their skin as the Englishmen awoke. The French Ambassador had visited the camp and called for Henry.

“You know who I am, King of England,” he remarked arrogantly. Henry wished he could wipe the irritating smirk off the Frenchman’s face.

“What news do you bring Montjoy?”

“My King sends a message: The French may seem dead, unaware of your English folly. We could have rebuked your troops in Harfleur but thought, why attack now when you are ripe? Better to counter you when you are bruised and sick. It will be an advantage to us when your numbers are lessened. So says my master.”

Henry bit the inside of his cheek, annoyed. He scowled at Montjoy who still had that smirk on his arrogant face.

Henry snarled, “Tell your master this: Here I am, standing on this land that will soon be mine. He has surely underestimated the English. My numbers may have lessened but numbers do not dictate victory. We do not seek a battle when we march to Calais but if we are hindered by your soldiers, you will be sure the ground will be dripping red from your army’s blood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Dialogue taken directly / indirectly from the Play: Henry V by Shakepeare


	17. Chapter 17

“The French troop have assembled sire!” informed a squire to Henry. It took a moment for him to digest. He pushed himself off the tree he was leaning on and followed the squire who was already hobbling back to where he was.

The valley below them was filled with thousands of soldiers donning their light blue and yellow uniforms. Henry gulped as he saw the numbers. There were five French soldiers to one Englishman. Lord Salisbury who had trailed behind Henry faced him, “My Lord, we will definitely lose this battle!” Henry didn’t respond, instead he continued staring at the valley.

“My King! We are fighting a losing battle here. Compared to the French who were well-rested and great in number, our numbers have lessened and most of them starving and malnourished!”

“You expect me to surrender and walk away a half-won battle?!” Henry growled.

Lord Salisbury opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted, “We can’t let the numbers frighten us Salisbury! We may be small in number but until the battle is fought, there is no definite winner!”

Lord Salisbury nodded dumbly, resigned.

“My liege,” John called, uncertainly. Henry turned, his jaw set, lightly biting his inner cheek as he crossed the space between him and the lord.

“The fewer the men, the greater the share of honour and I would not lose so great an honour…”* Henry said as he scanned the lords’ faces.

“Do you know this day is called my lords? This day is called the feast of Crispian… St Crispin’s day! For he had been brave and honourable on this very day… We few… we happy few… we band of brothers! For he today that sheds his blood with me and not hold his manhood cheap on St Cripin’s day shall be my brother!”

“My King! Allow me to lead the army! I beg of you!” Lord York requested, on one knee. Henry rushed forward and helped him up.

“Go, you brave York! Dispose the day!”

* * *

The air was filled with war cries, screams, the heavy thumps from the horses’ hooves and clanging of swords. The archers had stayed back, waiting orders from Lord Exeter. They jabbed sharpened wooden rods into the ground as the French troop approached them. Aria nodded at them as they withdrew an arrow and stretched their bows, ready.

“Steady lads!” Exeter cried, watching the French. As the troop loomed closer, they held their bows high. “Now!” Exeter bellowed. Hundreds of arrows flew into the air and plummeted down, striking their targets. They relentlessly shot arrows after arrows and soon the French troop was defeated. Miraculously, none of the archers were hurt. Exeter had calculated the distance between them before ordering attack.

Somewhere deep in the battlefield, Henry was sparring with several French Captains at one go. John had stabbed the second Dauphin of France and was about to give the final blow when he escaped, carried away by his men to somewhere safe. The ground was soft and muddy due to the rain before dawn. Many of the Frenchmen were caught in the muddy ground and were hacked to death by the oncoming English.

The archers were ordered to join in the battle and Aria and Exeter had led their fleet. But before she could withdraw her sword, a French soldier jumped onto Redfire, causing her to fall to the ground. She shielded herself as he attempted to hack her. Luckily someone speared him to his death. She wanted to express her gratitude but the man had already rushed off.

Aria had lost Redfire. The poor stallion was definitely frightened when she was forced to dismount. The animal had run off and she was left in the middle of the battlefield. The men around her screamed and shouted as their swords clanged against their enemy’s shields and armour. She stood up and withdrew her sword.

“Aria!” Henry yelled, “Behind you!”

She swiftly turned just in time before the soldier could attack her with his spear. She swiped her sword across his torso and thick, red blood gushed out, splattering over her face. The soldier cried out in pain and fell to the muddy ground, dead.

For that moment, the entire world stilled. Aria stared at the man. His light brown eyes, wide open as life seeped away from him. Her gaze turned to her bloody sword. She had never been able to picture herself committing something this gruesome. Not that she has not killed a man before; she certainly has. But this was different. Causing death by shooting a man with an arrow is nothing compared to slashing a man to his death.

She shook her head to bring herself back to her senses.

“Aria!” Henry cried, running towards her. He was covered in mud, had sustained a few shallow wounds that had dried. His hair was dishevelled and his shield was nowhere in sight.

“Are you alright?!” His voice alarmed as she stared at him blankly and slowly nodded. “By God Aria! Do people always have to watch your back?! THIS IS WHY I DIDN’T WANT YOU TO COME!”

“WELL IF YOU STOP SHOUTING AT ME MAYBE I CAN!”

Henry shot her an impatient look. He didn’t have time for this. He gave a dismissive sigh and ran ahead.  _What the hell?!_

She looked at the dead French soldier again before steeling herself, gripping the sword tightly.

It’s time. She charged forward, feeling the adrenaline pump through her veins.

* * *

After a gruelling seven hour battle, the French was successfully defeated. The Dauphin and his cousins had retreated back to their camp. The troop had assembled and like any other battles, a headcount must be done to determine the number of casualties and survivors.

Henry could feel exhaustion wearing heavy on his bones. His hair was tousled with his face muddied and bloody but he did not sustain any grave injuries. In fact all of the survivors didn’t sustain any critical injury.

“My lord,” Lord Exeter said, handing Henry a small piece of parchment. He took it reluctantly and read the numbers. He couldn’t believe it. The numbers of French casualties were much greater than the English despite the odds.

“Is this true good uncle?” Henry asked, uncertainly.

“Of course, my liege!” Exeter replied, his face was shining with a satisfied glow.

“Is my brother and Lady Aria alive?” he asked again with a quavering voice.

Exeter beamed, “Yes my lord, both of them are alive and well.”

* * *

They were back in England for 3 days now after the French had declared the English victorious. Henry and his councilmen were due in Paris for negotiations with King Charles. With the announcement of the victory of the English, they were greeted with parades along the streets. Many cheered for their war heroes while many more mourned for their lost ones.

Although Henry knew he has the upper hand in the situation now, he couldn’t help but to feel uneasy. The handover by the King would not guarantee him the ruling of France. There would be an inevitable revolt and many more states to conquer thereafter. This was only the beginning.

To make matters worse, Mary had fallen ill during the campaign. She kept having fainting spells and soon she was unable to stand without help. Several men were tasked to collect water from the enchanted spring but have yet to return. Her body was weaker than before and black spots had appeared mysteriously around her chest area. Royal physicians could not fathom why and what was causing her this illness and it seemed that her only last hope was the spring’s water.

Henry caressed his mother’s cheeks as he watched her sleep. A strange déjà vu passed through him – he had been at the same exact spot 8 months ago. He felt her gasp for air as she fluttered her eyes open.

“Hal…” she wheezed, “You’re back…” she managed with difficulty.

“There, there mother. Don’t strain yourself,” Henry cooed as he held her frail hand in his palm. Her fingers felt peculiarly small against his. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’ve sent for the men to bring back the enchanted spring water for you.”

Mary smiled at him feebly, patting his clasped hands. “Always wanting the best for me…” she whispered. Henry squeezed her fingers gently, assuring her.

“I want the best for you too, my son…” Henry wanted to respond but decided against it as soon as she continued.

“Please, if you do want the best for me, marry the Katherine of Valois…”

Henry instantly dropped her hand like a hot coal. “Mother… Please… Not this again…” he pleaded.

Mary summoned all of her strength as her eyes turned cold. “Henry of Monmouth! You listen to me!” she snapped. “In what world does a King marry a warrior and make her his queen?!”

Henry sighed exasperatedly, pushing himself off the bed, facing away from her.

“She had slain many men, dirtied her hands with soldiers’ blood, mingled with squires and you still want her to be your queen?!”

Henry whirled around, desperate, “Mother!”

“What kind of a Queen would she be if you allow her to walk all over you Henry?!”

Mary’s harsh words were like a blunt knife forcing its way into his heart. Henry’s eyes glistened as Mary stared daggers at him, her bright blue eyes flashing.

“And don’t you dare walk away from me!” she called as her son paced away from her.

* * *

It has been 4 days since Henry spoke a word to Aria. He ached for her but at the same time he has the constant nagging feeling to be angry at her all the time. His boot clicked on the stone floor as he descended the winding stairwell to her chambers. He hesitated for a bit before giving a light knock on the door.

“Come in!” Aria’s voice rang through the heavy oak door.

The door creaked open as she whirled around. She saw Henry entering and grinned at him. A small smile hooked onto Henry’s lips.

“Why, hello stranger!” She greeted him. He grinned at her as he pulled her into his arms. Despite his smile and kind blue eyes, there was worry plastered all over his face.

“Hello to you too,” he replied, kissing the tip of her nose, “How are you today my love?”

“As always… My injuries are healing well,” she said, gesturing to her physique. “When are you setting sail to France?” she asked as she fiddled with the buttons in his velvet tunic.

“In a few days…” he murmured against her forehead wrapping his arms firmly around her. He breathed in her scent as he pulled her closer, never wanting to let go. He was still reeling from what just happened in his mother’s chambers. Aria was his only anchor in reality.

“What do you think the negotiations will entail?”  _Must she really bring this up?_

Henry sighed audibly and brought a hand up to rub his temples, gently nudging the hollow gold crown sitting atop on his head. He shrugged as he loosened his grip and finally releasing her.

“I’m not sure… Dukedoms, full control of the French states… The French King might be agreeable to the terms but the Dauphin might not and we all know what a pain he can be…” Henry trailed off, walking towards the balcony.

“Do you think they will force you to marry the French princess?” Aria asked timidly.

Henry frowned at the question,  _How insecure can she be?!_ He whirled around to face her.

“Could you just STOP harping on that question?!” he barked. Aria flinched at his sudden uproar.

“I’m not harping on it!” she retorted, clenching up her fists. “It’s a valid question!”

“Do people really want me to get married to her?! Because that’s what it seems like!”

Aria could feel anger engulfing her, “Well it does seem like you’d rather be!”

Henry scowled at her, annoyance pinching his features, “What do you mean?” he growled.

She could feel hot tears stinging her eyes as she glared at him. “You keep throwing your tantrums at me! You think I don’t notice that?! If you are so unhappy with me, Hal, you should tell me directly instead of beating around the bush!”

Once the words escaped the tip of her tongue, she immediately regretted it. Tears had streaked down her cheeks and her neck was flushed.

“My mother was right!” he spat.

“Right about what?!” Aria cried.

“That you’ll just walk all over me if you’re ever to be my queen!”

“Wha-“

“I guess there’s no need to wait for that!” Henry laughed bitterly, “You already ARE right now!”

“What are you trying to accuse me of?!” Aria asked, her voice wavering as a single tear rolled down her left cheek. Henry didn’t answer her, his blood was still boiling.

They glared at one another before he snarled, “You’re not worthy to be my queen.”

For a moment it was as if her whole universe had collapsed around her, burnt down to pieces as his words sunk in. Each word forcefully stabbing into her heart.

“You’ve killed hundreds of men, sullied your hands with their blood and you expect me to take you as my queen?!”

There was something not right. Henry’s bright blue eyes had turned pale and beads of perspiration had formed around his forehead. He had a menacing look fixed on his handsome face, nostrils flaring. Despite noticing the sudden change in his physicality, Aria was still stunned by his words.

“Whatever happened to your sweet promises of love and devotion? Or have they been erased by the poison your mother has fed you?” she whispered.

“Don’t you dare speak of her like that!” Henry thundered.

“You don’t know your mother well enough! Did you know that she tried bribery to get rid of me?!”she retorted, as memories of her in Sweden flashed before her eyes.

“LIES!” Henry roared, “I will not have you speak of her like that! You think just because I had fallen in your entrapment you can easily manipulate me?! That’s where you’re wrong!”

She steeled herself, clenching her fists and held her head high.  _How dare he!_  ”If I am so unworthy of you, my King, I urge you to leave my chambers and go ahead with your plans to marry the French Princess.”

Henry glared at her. “You are no longer welcomed in this castle Lady Baudouin. By the time I come back to England from France, I expect you to vacate this very chambers.”

Henry spun on his heels and marched towards the door. He flung it open before slamming the door shut behind him.

Aria crumpled to the floor as the door slammed shut. More tears had welled up her eyes as her left cheek came into contact with the stone cold floor. She could feel her heart being wrangled as reality started to wrap itself around her head, causing it hard to breathe. She willed herself not to succumb to her tears, gripping onto the ridged edge of the stones on the floor but her attempt was futile. Endless streams of tears were streaking across her beautiful face, before she lost herself, sobbing.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist!

_Have you ever hadyour heart broken? Your chest hurts when you breathe. The never ending tears that kept streaming down your cheeks. There will be a sudden blow of exhaustion that weighs on your bones and most of all, the inability to focus on anything but your pain._

_And that’s the worst isn’t it? The pain._

A heart breaking is silent and you almost wish there was a loud crashing noise to distract you from the pain. Your emotions roar out like a wild beast and rattle the cage that held them in. And that moment when you thought the worst was a broken heart.

But no… The next part will definitely kill you. It’s when your pillars of strength that held you up crumbles down as the Earth shakes and to have your dreams crushed and thrown away like a useless piece of paper.

But…. This pain will go away, will it not?

* * *

 

It was midnight. Henry was sitting at the head of the table in the council room, scrutinising paperwork for the negotiations with France. The soft warm glow of the candlelight’s ignited the room together with the moonlight from the tall window to his left. The only sounds were coming from the scratching of his quill against the parchment.

He heard the door creaked open, followed by footsteps. When he looked up, John was standing behind the heavy oak chairs. He clearly wasn’t happy. Both brothers stared at one another, tension building up until John voiced out.

“What do you think you’re doing?! Kicking Aria out of the castle like that?!” he ranted.

Henry put down his quill, sighing audibly before pursing his lips. He didn’t answer him immediately and instead looked back down on the parchment.

John clicked his tongue, “Brother! Please explain yourself!”

Henry dragged his eyes off the parchment to look John in the eye.

“I’d like to remind you brother that I am the King. My decision to treat my subjects in such a manner should not be your concern unless it is demeaning and physically cruel,” he stated calmly.

“Unless it is demeaning?!” John raised his voice, surprised.

“Brother, banishing a lady you claim to love is demeaning enough! Especially knowing what you’ve done with her!”

Henry rolled the parchments as he glanced at his younger brother, “What is your concern anyways? Lady Aria has no relations to you whatsoever!”

“My concern?! She came here because you brought her here in the first place. You claimed to love her, defile her and then you’re punishing her because of some unreasonable justification you have come up with?!” John said, bewildered.

“First!” Henry yelled impatiently, “She came here willingly! Second, anything that I have done to her was with her consent…” Henry’s voice dropped a notch and he growled, “There is a reason why I am doing what I am doing! She spoke ill of our mother.”

John clenched his jaw, “What did she say?” he said through his gritted teeth.

“That our mother had manipulated me and that mother tried to bribe her!”

“And you didn’t ask mother if these accusations were true?” John asked, frowning.

“Why would I?! They were lies!” Henry yelled, thumping his palm against the table, infuriated. His patience was wearing thinner by the second.

“What if mother did bribe her?” John suggested nervously.

“Why are you defending her?!” Henry shot back.

Both brothers paused, allowing silence to consume them. Then, Henry broke the silence, “Oh… My dearest brother… Is this love?”

John’s insides shrivelled up as Henry called him out. “That is beside the point!” he hurriedly said.

“No, it’s not…” Henry spoke, barely audible. He was befuddled with his own feelings. Part of him wanted to be jealous and lash out at John but another part of him couldn’t care less.

“Yes it is! How can you change so abruptly?! Not so long ago you were all protective over her, claiming to love her and now with just a slip of a tongue, which might be true considering the fact that our mother is capable of such things, you have a sudden change of heart?!”

Henry clicked his tongue as he gathered the rolled parchment into one hand. He shoved John aside roughly, causing John to stumble back as he walked over to the dark teak cupboard at the end of the room. “My decision is final,” he said coolly.

He whirled around and glared at John, “Don’t you dare defy me and stop her from leaving!”

“Very well,” John said defiantly.

“About those negotiations with King Charles…” he trailed off with a lump in his throat.

“What of it?! Henry snapped.

“If you wish to take Katherine of Valois as your wife in the process of the negotiations…” he paused to gulp the lump in his throat, ” I think it’s cruel enough banishing Aria. Don’t torture her more by holding the wedding here.” John pleaded.

* * *

 

John knew that loving Aria Baudouin was not easy. Even though he pleaded his brother to hold the wedding in France to spare Aria’s feelings, he was secretly glad that she wouldn’t belong to his brother anymore. He knew this selfish need to have Aria for himself was wrong but he couldn’t help it.

Is this how it feels like when you love someone with every fibre of your soul? Is it strange to be sad that your loved one is devastated but at the same time, you are happy because you can finally declare your love with no obstruction?

John refused to follow Henry’s entourage to France and argued with Humphrey to take his place instead. Henry hadn’t bothered to even ask why.

During the time the King and his councilmen were gone, he took it upon himself to look for another accommodation for Aria despite her protests. The search was not that hard. Castles were strewn all over England. He finally found a castle that was not occupied but taken care of the royal servants. Plus it is not too far from London and Aria should be safe there.

“John,” Aria pleaded.

“You’re not obliged to do this… I don’t belong in this class. I can return to my village…” she said dejectedly. Her voice was cracked and sounded hollow. Even though she tried hard to appear strong, Aria secretly wanted to dig up a hole six feet under and hide in it.

“Nonsense! No lady of your stature deserves a peasant’s life…” Aria laughed bitterly, “To be honest, I think a peasant’s life is much more blissful than this,” she gestured.

They were in her chambers, packing up her belongings. John had arranged for Beth, Mary and Margret to follow her to her new home. They had simply nodded at him as they agreed to the arrangement.

Dark circles had formed under Aria’s sapphire blue eyes, causing her already bloodshot eyes to appear empty and her face haunted. She had lost her appetite, causing her to look gaunt. What she feels inside mirrored her physicality.

John decided not to argue. He knew she was still raw from her row with Henry.

They sat in silence. Aria was folding a piece of linen before breaking the silence, “I don’t even know what I did wrong to cause him to be angry with me in the first place…” she spoke softly, her voice wavering slightly.

“Something’s not right…”

“Whatever do you mean?” John asked, concerned. He had settled on her study desk, across her dresser, where she sat.

Aria faced him and seemed hesitant. “I meant… He doesn’t seem himself ever since we started the campaign… At first I thought he was just under pressure with so many burdens to carry but he usually talks about it, even if he snapped before. But during that campaign… Everything took a 360 degree turn… He refused to look at me in the eye and even if he does, he seemed forced. He snaps at me during council meetings, always shooting me the annoyed look… He seemed back to normal once we’re back in England. But he angered me and I made the mistake of provoking him further by telling him about your mother…”

Aria was exhausted. She felt as if she had poured out all of her heart’s content to John.

Oh poor John… Having to sit through all this and pick up the pieces that his brother had left behind…

She slacked against her dresser and picked on her dress. “I’m so sorry for burdening you with all this,” Aria apologised, feeling guilty. “You must be feeling awkward and helpless.”

John gave her a sheepish smile that would normally make maiden’s hearts skip a beat.

“Not at all, my lady. Your well-being is my responsibility. But going back to what you’ve just said, I agree. Hal do seem harsh towards you and we both know how protective he is of you… Something is not right…” John lamented.

“Did my mother really did what you said she did?” John asked nervously. Tears had already streamed down Aria’s face.

“Not you too John…” she said, choked. “Why would I lie?” she muttered.

He immediately pushed himself off the desk and crossed the space between them. Aria was staring at the floor, watching her tears fall upon it, the stone absorbing the moisture, unaware of him approaching. When she saw his shadow casting on her, she lifted her head up and looked blankly at him. John wiped away her tears tenderly before running his fingers across her forehead, sweeping the loose strands of her hair and gently tucking it behind her left ear. Carefully cupping her left cheek, he beamed softly at her.

“You still have me,” he assured her. “And I’ll take care of you.”

He gently plant a kiss on her forehead before pulling back, offering her a sad smile.

* * *

 

The negotiations in France went well even though it took longer than expected. King Charles had agreed for Henry to succeed his throne instead of the Dauphin if he were to pass on. The Dauphin was exiled and disowned due to his violent rebuke on Henry’s claim. Katherine of Valois had agreed to marry Henry and to hold the wedding in Paris itself within a week.

It had been 6 days since the agreement on the terms. Henry was standing the balcony of his accommodation, staring ahead to the Parisian landscape. It somehow reminded his own balcony view back in England and instantly he thought of Aria.

He hadn’t thought of her for quite some time. His feelings had been confusing. A small part of him wanted to turn back to England and break his betrothal to Kate but most of the time this feeling was overpowered by his hatred towards her. He couldn’t fathom why he hates her so much. He had lain awake in bed reasoning with himself but could not find an answer. All there was was just blind hatred and disgust.

He had tossed and turned in his bed, annoyed with himself and it was evident when he snapped at Kate when she asked him if he was well. He apologised quickly thereafter, jesting that when he woos, he tend to scare maidens off instead of making them swoon. Kate seemed to have bought that since she had beamed at him, giggling at his jest.

There was no denying of the French Princess’ beauty. Her eyes shone bright blue while her wavy honey blonde hair curtained her soft features delicately. Even though she spoke broken English with a heavy French accent, it was endearing. Well, at least to Henry.

He found himself comparing Kate and Aria together. Their eyes; Kate’s bright blue against Aria’s sapphire blue ones. Their height; Kate was a foot shorter while Aria’s nose easily touched Henry’s lips. Their hair, raven against blonde. Their personalities; Aria was firecracker who wears her emotions on her sleeves while Kate appeared to be mousy and a tad girly.

Katherine of Valois had been nervous around Henry. Clearly afraid of what he might do to her. Her father had agreed to marry her with this King of England who had attacked her country and trying to make it his. She wasn’t happy with the arrangement but knew it was necessary to keep peace. Although disowning Dauphin Charles was not a wise idea. It was obvious Charles would rebel against this regime and bring about a civil war if he finds the right nobility to support him.

The first time they were in a room together (with Alice the handmaiden of course, no noble French princess would be allowed to be in a room with a man she is not married to!), he had snapped at her irritably when she asked how he was. Even though he had apologised quickly, making jest with her, she felt slighted.

The man was definitely handsome. But there was something striking about him. Every single time he looks at her, she could tell he was seeing someone else but not her. There will be that unmistakable glint in his eyes after a few moments that will bring him back to reality and this will be the time when he looks at her and sees nothing else but her. But she could tell that when he does, his face will fall slightly, as if disappointed.

Katherine wondered who Henry sees when he looks at her.

* * *

 

Mary De Bohun had been weak. Her withered skin had clung onto her bones, wrapping itself onto her structure, making her appear a hundred years older. As she painstakingly tosses in between the sheets, her right arm poked out, revealing dark liver spots have been appearing on her thin skin.

The soft orange glow from the candles lit up the room as she turned. She froze.  
At the corner of the dim room, a black cloaked figure stood, facing away from the four poster bed. She steeled herself and gathered her strength to sit up.

“Whoever you are…” she croaked inaudibly, “Show yourself.”

A sinister cackle greeted her.

“Oh dearie. What a cold welcome from you…” The figure turned slowly, it’s face hidden in the shadow of its hood. Mary knew the voice.

“What do you want Merida?” She asked coldly. Her jaw was set with eyes flashing bright blue. “How did you get on here?!”

“Tut, tut. You should really brush up on your people skills Mary…” Merida lamented before remarking, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “Oh, I always forget that you have been lacking them ever since you became Queen.”

Mary didn’t answer and instead glared at the witch.

“Don’t make me repeat myself! What do you want?!” Mary cried shrilly.

“To see you,” Merida replied simply.

Mary waited for her to continue but she didn’t.

“Why?!” she spat impatiently. Merida let put another cackle before approaching the four poster bed.

“You may have forgotten Mary. But I will never forget. Never forget where you came from my dear. You were never of noble birth Mary. You escaped from our village by drugging the nobleman you encountered in the middle of the woods with the altering potion. You managed to manipulate and drugged his family, wiping and altering their memories to accept you as their own. Although that was impressive my dear, dear Mary, you always forget your roots.”

“I carved my own future! I deserved better than your peasant family!”

“My peasant family?” Merida said with disbelief. “The same family who treated you like their own when your family was massacred?”

Mary fell silent. She squinted at Merida and realised that she was no longer hunched and her mouth was full of teeth. Immediately it hit her.

“You stole my youth!”

Merida grinned sinisterly and bared her teeth, “Did you really think I wanted your gold?!” she snarled.

“What did you put in that potion you gave me?!” Mary cried, anxious and desperate.

“You wouldn’t even know,” Merida spoke softly, “Because you were too busy dreaming about being a noble when my parents pass down this craft to us.”

Mary’s eyes widened in horror.

“Every single time your son consumes that potion Mary; life will be eaten away by me. I will gain the years left of you and your son. I expected you to be greedy and let your son consume the potion more than once a day. True, he will develop hatred towards the commoner, like you have requested but when his hatred grows stronger Mary… Remember, his years together with yours will be mine.”

“What did I ever do to you?!” Mary whimpered. Tears had choked her, making it hard to breathe.

Oh my poor son. My poor, poor son. What have I done?

“YOU LEFT ME TO DIE!” Merida thundered. “You left me in a ditch, during the witch hunt, with an arrow in my heart while you scamper through the woods and found your new family! You dare to deny this?! You think offering me gold when you can make use of me and my craft is enough? Why do you think you keep falling ill, you wretched woman!”

“My knights will find the enchanted spring water! I will be well again!” Mary cried triumphantly.

Merida scoffed, “Oh, I’ve heard.” She let out a screeching laughter. “I know of the famous spring. The spring will only cure those who are pure at heart Mary. You had never recovered fully because you were not. If you were, you wouldn’t object to your son’s love affair. The girl may be a commoner and has her flaws but she was pure. Unlike you.”

Mary gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

“I wish you a peaceful death, old friend.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aria has a visitor.

It was the morning of the royal wedding. A sparrow had latched itself on the covered windowsill and started chirping.

Henry woke up with a start as the bird started singing incessantly. His head was pounding and there were creases on his cheek where he slept on. He covered his head with a pillow, annoyed, but the bird continued. The more he wanted to ignore the bird, the more the bird sang. He let out a frustrated growl before proceeding to throw the pillow against the window. It hit the window with a loud thump.

With a strangled squawk, the sparrow flew away. Henry rubbed his eyes as he pushed himself up from the bed. He scratched his beard irritably as he got up and collected the pillow from the floor. Henry opened the window wide, breathing in the Parisian air and closed his eyes.

 _Today will be the day,_  he thought,  _I’d marry someone I do not love._

* * *

*

Beth Mollun had been a handmaiden ever since she turned 15. Throughout her 14 years with the royal family, she had pledged her allegiance to several nobilities but none of them came close to Lady Aria. She cared more for Aria than any others. She saw her bloom from a nervous girl who wasn’t sure of her position in the palace to someone who gained knowledge and confidence. She saw her becoming a warrior from a commoner. But now all she sees of her is a broken shell and she doesn’t like it.

Aria had always kept to herself but sometimes she would confide in Beth although she doesn’t divulge much. Not that Beth was nosy but she felt that she could help more if she knew the details. She’s not oblivious. She knew of Aria’s affair with Henry way before she was roped in to help with the archers. So when she saw Aria on the floor weeping, she knew it had ended. She knew that all she could do was to pick up the pieces and offer her a shoulder to cry on. Aria was not only someone she serves but she had become her friend and a sister. She was angry at the king but she saw it coming.

Love affairs with a royalty never end well unless you’re royalty yourself.

This morning she had prepared Aria’s bath and breakfast and later found her reading in her room.

Thank god for Prince John. Bless his soul. If not for him, Aria would have returned to her village, broken.

But no matter how much he tries to make her feel better and happier, she has never smiled at him like she did with the king. Perhaps she needs more time to heal.

“Good morrow Prince John,” Beth curtsied as she greeted him.

John gave her a slight smile as he approached. “Good morrow to you too Beth… How is Lady Aria today?”

“Much better. She has been reading the books you brought by and has been occupied with them. The unread pile is decreasing at a rapid rate though.”

John took a mental note to get more books from the royal library as he let out a sigh of relief. Aria had been cooping herself up in her room. At first she was moping around the castle and when John decided to bring her favourite books from the royal library, she had pounced on them and pored over their contents.

At least she’s busy.

“That’s good… I came by here to inform that my sister Phillipa has landed on English soil…”

“Oh, Princess Phillipa… I meant Queen Phillipa is back for a visit!”

“Yes,” John replied anxiously.

“For a friendly visit?” Beth inquired.

John furrowed his brows, “Not exactly…” He hesitated before blurting out, “My brother is holding a wedding reception here when he brings back his queen… And Phillipa decided to come. But when she found out Aria was no longer in the castle, she wanted to visit.”

Beth nodded, acknowledging the problem. Aria didn’t even know that Henry was marrying the French Princess. True, there were talks but no one told her that it has been confirmed and John had all the servants vow to keep it from her.

“Are you breaking it to her yourself?” Beth asked nervously. John dragged his eyes heavily from the floor and gulped. “Do I really have a choice?”

Beth shook her head. “It would be cruel to hear it from me, my liege.”

“Very well,” John affirmed, clearing his throat in the process.

* * *

*

The preparations were done. Colourful streamers were strewn around the city to celebrate the wedding and music was being played everywhere.

This was supposed to be a joyous moment for anyone but the atmosphere in the church seemed forced and gloomy. Henry had donned his ceremonial robes of red and gold together with the royal emblem. He flexed his back, in an attempt to ease it from the weight of the heavy velvet cloak. He studied himself in the mirror and could only see a stubborn man with thin lips and cold blue eyes staring back at him.

When he donned these very robes for his coronation, his insides were revolting, turning and twisting. And 14 months later, the same feeling had come back to repeat history.

There was a slight knock on the door and Lord Exeter entered the room. He had worn his best black and green velvet robes coupled with his own royal emblem. His whispery grey hair had been swept back neatly, revealing his wise face.

“My liege,” he started, searching Henry’s emotionless face in the mirror with concern. “The ceremony will start in less than an hour.”

Henry flicked his eyes to Exeter’s in the mirror and nodded. Exeter gulped before approaching.

“Hal…” he said, abandoning the formalities, “As your uncle I think it’s my right to advice you… We can still walk away from this…” he said nervously.

Henry didn’t answer. He merely stared at his uncle with a blank look.

“Take it from a man like me Hal, marriage may be a tool for politics and stature… But, a marriage is an unbreakable vow between you, your future wife and God. It’s not child’s play. The church does not allow divorces…”

Exeter cleared his throat, trying to form his words in a delicate manner so as to not offend the king, “Your heart belongs to someone else Hal. It’s obvious. So before you enter something you can’t back away from, I advise you to walk away now.”

 _Uncle is right,_  Henry thought,  _but it’s too late… There’s no way to take back my words… I… How can you love someone but hate her so much? Why is this so confusing?_

Henry gulped the lump in his throat and blinked his eyes repeatedly to clear the moisture which had glistened over them. For that very moment, Exeter could see a flicker of emotion flashing through his nephew’s face. The same nervous expression he wore when he realised Henry IV was dead in his arms.

But the expression was gone before he could react.

“I’ve already made my decision my dearest uncle. Let the priest know that I’m ready.”

* * *

*

“Alice!” Kate squeaked as she struggled to keep her wedding train perfect. Alice rushed to her side, taking care of the crease, patting and smoothing it out. She gave the princess a nervous grin before standing up straight.

“Not to worry mademoiselle, you look perfect.”

“Really?” Kate peeped again. Alice nodded as she fixed the silver crown on the princess’ golden tresses.

“You’ll follow me to England no? I need you Alice. I don’t want to be alone in a foreign land.”

“Oh my dear princess!” Alice wrapped her hands over Kate’s and smiled at her warmly.

“I will follow you until my last breath.”

* * *

*

The church was filled with French aristocrats. The only English faces were the councilmen of Henry’s entourage. The hall was buzzing with excitement as the organ began playing right before the doors of the church opened wide, revealing the bride and her father.

Kate and King Charles walked down the long aisle before reaching the end. Henry smiled tenderly at a nervous Kate before reaching out for her hand. She stepped onto the altar and faced him.

Satisfied, the priest began to do the vows after addressing the crowd with a ceremonial speech.

“Do you Catherine Valois, take thee Henry Plantegenet, as your lawfully wedded husband, to love him and keep him and forsaking all other and remain true to him as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Do you Henry Plantegenet, take thee Catherine Valois, as your lawfully wedded wife, to love her and keep her and forsaking all other and remain true to her as long as you both shall live?”

Henry didn’t answer immediately. His heart stilled.

_Am I ready for this? There’s no turning back once I say the words. Would I love her like how I love…_

“Henry Plantegenet? Do you?” Henry snapped out of his thoughts and focussed back to the priest. He gulped for a moment and looked at Kate. She was frowning, her face urging him to say his vows. The whole room was buzzing with tension, holding their breaths for Henry’s reaction.

“I do.”

* * *

*

There was frantic knocking on the heavy oak door, startling Aria who had been reading and pacing the room. Pins and needles had attacked her limbs as she had lain on the bed for far too long, thus making her rise. She closed her book and gently put it down on her desk, “Come in!”

The door creaked and Beth’s head popped out to the side.

“Lady Aria!” Beth huffed as she slid in, patting her heaving chest.

“Take a breather Beth…” Aria said, rushing forward, stroking her back downwards to calm her.

She managed a grateful smile, “Well the staircase has definitely served its purpose on making us exercise!”

Aria chuckled, “It certainly has!”

“Oh! Lady Aria! You’re laughing again! You haven’t laugh for a very long time!”

Aria stared at Beth blankly before turning away and walking towards her desk, “Oh, I hadn’t notice…” her voice nonchalant.

She hesitated before turning her attention to Beth again, “What’s the matter Beth?”

“Oh! I apologise for the knocking my lady! Prince John is in the Drawing Room and mentioned that he needs to address something.”

* * *

*

John was sitting in one of the benches propped against a wall with a high-ceilinged window. He had his hands clasped and a worried look plastered on his face. He pursed his lips, feeling his heart beating steadily faster.

He heard Aria came in and stood up. She appeared to be better than a week ago. Her bright red dress made her cheeks to appear slightly pink, her eyes were no longer sunken and the dark circles under them had faded.

“My lady,” John greeted her, bowing his head slightly.

“Oh we’re being formal now?” Aria teased as she curtsied, cocking her eyebrow up.

John grinned, “Well who knows? You might have forgotten who I was…”

Aria shot him a look of derision, “Oh please…” she chided.

“Beth told me you need to address something… What is it?”

That immediately brought John back down to bitter reality.

“Oh…” he started, appearing flustered. “I think we better sit for this.”

He gestured to the bench he sat on earlier and Aria sat upon it, following him. She waited with bated breath for him to start but he didn’t.

“John?” she urged. John reluctantly lifts his head up to face her and gulped.

“Philippa is coming to visit you,” he divulged, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh! That’s a surprise!” Aria quipped, clapping her hands together, grinning but she noticed John’s crestfallen face and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

John shook his head but Aria persisted, “That’s not an expression someone put on when his sister visits her home after some time. What’s wrong John? Is there something wrong with her?”

“Nothing’s wrong with her!” John interjected quickly. He hesitated for a second, “She didn’t exactly come back to visit you…” He flicked his eyes to hers and gulped.

“She’s coming back because of the reception.”

Aria blinked at him, clueless, “What reception?”

John looked away and said, “Hal’s wedding reception.”

“Oh.”

He could feel her stiffening beside him. John wanted to turn back to see her reaction but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. What did he expect? Aria smiling? He couldn’t bear to see her devastated face. He waited for her to say something but she was silent.

And the silence became too loud.

When he turned back, Aria was staring out into space, her face emotionless. At the corner of her eyes she saw John facing her again and she mirrored him.

“How long have you known?” she whispered. John didn’t answer her straightaway.

“Aria, I didn’t want… I know hiding it from you isn’t the right thing to do but you were… so… broken.. I didn’t have the heart to do it,” he faltered as he covered her hands with his, squeezing them.

“How long have you known?” she repeated. John looked down, ashamed.

“A week. He announced it a week ago.”

Aria nodded, a part of her wanted to scream at John but she knew he had her best interests at heart. “It wasn’t your fault John.” She held his shoulder and gave him a weak smile. “You did everything for me. You cared.”

_Why is she not…. Sad? Disappointed or angry?_

“You expected me to be angry and wailing my eyes out didn’t you?” Aria spoke, as if reading his mind. John bobbed his head dumbly.

“I guess no matter how many buckets of tears I cry or how heavy the weight of my emotions worn on my sleeves, some things won’t be resolved… I’m resigned to my fate now.”

“Aria…” John sighed.

“I don’t really need pity words from you John. I think I’m strong enough to stand on my own and fight my own battles. Please don’t hide anything else from me.”

Realising how harsh her words sound, she kissed his cheek gently as if to soften the blow, “I trust you with my life John. But I expect you to treat me as your equal. Not someone who you have to protect all the time.”

* * *

 

The next morning, at exactly 7.30 am, there was shuffling around the room. Beth shoved the hefty curtains to the side, letting the sunlight penetrate through the room. The light was so intense that Aria saw red in her sleep.

She cracked one eye open and immediately hid her head underneath the pillow. She had spent the previous night crying her heart out, soaking the pillow with her tears. Try as she might – the attempt to be unaffected when the love of your life choosing to marry someone else was not easy.

Beth forcefully tugged the sheets away from her and pulled her legs.

Aria yelped, jolted from her half-slumber.

“Beth! Jesus!”

Beth giggled and tugged some more. Aria let out another yelp. “Alright! Alright! Stop pulling my legs. I’ll get up!”

She reluctantly sat up and rubbed her tired swollen eyes. “I look horrible don’t I?” she lamented.

“Aye! But with fresh cold water, you would become the fairest of them all!” Beth assured.

“Why am I being woken up early again?” Aria inquired as Beth led her towards the large basin of water.

“Queen Philippa of Sweden is here, my lady!”

By the time Aria was presentable with her peridot coloured dress and hair braided to her right, it was 8.30am. She could hear the thunder of horses galloping in a distance and halting to a stop at the gates. Mary was tasked to receive Philippa and lead her into the Dining room where they will have breakfast together.

“Aria!” Philippa cried as she caught sight of her. She held up her dress as she raced forwards, before almost pouncing on Aria. Caught off guard, Aria had her hands up in surprise as Philippa had embraced her around her shoulders.

“Oh my god! It’s so good to finally see you!”

Aria managed an enthusiastic smile.

“How have you been? I heard from John you went to war! How did that happen? How did you even get out alive? How come you’re here now? Did Henry place you here just because he’s afraid of his French wife?!” Philippa vomited out all at once.

“Woah, slow down, your highness!”

Philippa panted and grinned at her, “My apologies! I was just so excited and we have so much to catch up on!” She caught Aria’s cheeks and kissed them.

“But first! We must have breakfast yes?”

“Aye!”

The entire meal, Aria had resorted to listen to Philippa talk as she rambled on about her life in Sweden, her husband, the politics in Scandinavia and how they were trying to have an issue.

“Now, enough about me! How are you Aria?” Philippa asked, setting down her fork and clasping her hands under her chin.

“Your highness… I’m….”

“Oh, please! Do away with the formalities! Just call me by my name!” she interrupted.

A smile carved unto her lips as she resumed, “I’m fine Philippa. You can see that yourself.”

“Aye! But why are you here? In this castle instead of the main palace? Did my brother place you here because of the French princess?” Philippa assumed, cringing up her nose.

“No, no…” Aria threw a quick glance to Beth, trying to mask a guilty look, “I was the one who requested to move. I wasn’t comfortable there anymore.”

Philippa seemed to have bought her words. “Ah, I see. Well, tell me more about the war! You’re probably the first woman in England’s history to fight alongside the men in war!”

They continued to chat and eat until their plates and jugs of water had been emptied.

“… The funny thing was, John didn’t even try to block my blows. He just let me punch him continuously!”

Philippa giggled, covering her mouth with her hands but the bubbles of laughter escaped. “Stop Aria! You’re making my sides ache!” she remarked, muffled by her hands. Putting her hands down, she sniffed and grinned.

Philippa dabbed her tearing eyes while still giggling “Poor brother John, beaten up by a lady!”

“So,” Philippa started wiping breadcrumbs off her lips, “Have you decided on a dress to go for the wedding reception?”

Aria choked on her water.

“Wha-” she sputtered in her goblet, putting it down hastily as she coughed.

“Aria! Are you alright? Be careful!” Philippa quipped as she reached out to pat her back.

“I’m fine,” Aria coughed, rubbing her throat.

_Jesus! What the hell?!_

Philippa continued, “The reception is in a couple of days! I think it’s wise to get one soon. Oh! Remember your bridesmaid dress? Yes! That was perfect but shame if you’d have to wear the same one!”

It was obvious that Philippa had no clue what was going on. She animatedly rambled on about dresses and fashion, failing to notice that Aria didn’t respond at all.

“I don’t think I’m going Philippa…” Aria spoke when she finally finished babbling.

“Yes, well… Wait, what?!”

“I don’t think I-” Aria repeated before being shushed by Philippa.

“Why not? You can’t leave him by himself!”

_What?_

“Huh? Who’s ‘he’?” Aria asked, confused.

Philippa rolled her eyes and chided, “My dearest brother John! He has no escort yet and neither have you!”

_Oh…_

“Plus, you two have chemistry!” Philippa teased, poking Aria’s sides. She yelped as shock shot through her body.

“No we don’t! We’re just good friends!” she denied, slapping Philippa’s hands away. Philippa giggled before poking her tongue out.

“It’s so good teasing someone. It’s all business back in Sweden. At times I forget that I am merely 23 and not 40,” she sobered.

“I honestly think this whole wedding is rushed. Don’t you think? I mean the war barely ended and my mother is sick!” Philippa ranted, clicking her tongue, “And you thought that as a King he would have known about better timing.”

“Well, I think it’s all done in favour of politics…” Aria fiddled with her fingers, her insides churning, making her hot and uncomfortable.

“Please go with John! It’s painful enough to-“

“Did I hear someone gossiping about me?” John’s voice rang through the room as if on cue.

“Ah! Must I really have two brothers who have the opposite sense of timing?” Philippa scoffed, folding her arms.

John winked at her before dragging a chair back, settling down, “Now ladies, what are you gossiping about?”

“We’re not gossiping!” Aria shot defensively. Philippa let out a hearty chuckle. “Oh, we’re just talking about how you two have chemistry!” pointing her finger at both of them.

Aria groaned, covering her reddening face. John stared daggers at his sister and shushed her. “Stop it!”

“My apologies Aria. Sometimes, my dearest sister forgets that she needs to mind her own business.” Philippa poked her tongue out at him before grinning like a Cheshire cat.

* * *

 

“Do I really have to go?” Aria mused to John.

John was escorting her back to her room after the drama in the dining room. Philippa had to excuse herself to return to the palace after the meal.

John gulped before answering, “It’s up to you.”

They fell silent and Aria avoided his gaze. “I’m not forcing you. It’s entirely up to you,” he repeated.

“I know,” she muttered, touching his arm. John stared at her hand, not knowing what to say. They looked up at the same time and their eyes met. Aria gave him a soft smile.

“I’ll go with you.”


	20. Chapter 20

No one spoke of Henry’s hesitation at the altar. Even Lord Exeter had brushed the incident off although he knew his nephew was contemplating on walking away there and then. Kate was too afraid that Henry would snap at her if she asked. She felt insulted somehow – that he dithered in front of everyone when he was the one who boldly ask for her hand in marriage during the negotiations.

Their first night together was awkward. Kate had heard so many rumours on what to expect on the first wedding night from her elder sisters but none of them happened. As soon as they were left alone, Henry had removed his clothing, got under the covers and started to snore. She had a feeling he had done it deliberately but by the time she had the courage to observe him ‘sleep’, he was indeed taking deep breaths like one in deep slumber.

The second night was much better. There was intimacy but it felt obligatory. They consummated their marriage but by the time they were done, Henry didn’t even look at her. She felt even more insulted by it but was too afraid to confront him.

“Are we going to back England?” Kate mused to her reluctant husband who was laying on his back, arms folded behind his head.

“Of course,” Henry replied lazily, turning to his right side, showing his back to her.

“When ‘Arry?” she quipped again, shaking his arm, trying to get him face her.

“Soon enough,” Henry sighed, “We need to have a reception banquet there,” he obliged to her nudging request and sat up, facing her. “We’ll bring some of the handmaidens along if you feel uncomfortable.”

He knew she was anxious. It reminded him of Philippa and how she kept complaining she would be in a foreign country and no one else would speak the same language.

“That sounds good,” she whooped, grinning widely.

He smiled back at her and kissed her forehead gently, “Now go to sleep.”

Kate grinned as she watched him retreating back to his usual position in bed – on his side, his back facing her. She wondered why he had sounded reluctant and forced. She laid back, frowning, remembering that even though her husband had made her happy tonight, his smile didn’t quite reach up his eyes.

Well, she has never seen that kind of smile from him at all.

* * *

 

They sailed back to England within a week.

Henry immediately got busy with arrangements for the wedding banquet before addressing with the council on further conquering France. He tried hard to be there for Kate especially at meal times but every single time he loses interest and ends up staring into space. And when she pulled back him back into reality, a glint of disappointment would flash through his handsome face.

Kate realised this every time. She didn’t like the look he wore every time he looks at her.

“Alice?” Kate called out shrilly. She was seated alone in the dining room. This was her fourth day in England and even though she tried hard, she still wasn’t comfortable without Alice. Her stomach growled loudly as she impatiently swept the napkin on her lap onto the chair.

_Where is everyone? Isn’t this dinner time?! Henry will be here soon!_

She walked out of the unfamiliar dining room and into the narrow hallway leading to the kitchen. The air in the hallway was humid but fragrant at the same time. Gingerly opening the flap doors, she peeked in.

Soups were piping from the cauldrons and there were about a dozen servants bustling around, preparing the courses. Someone was bellowing out orders. She tiptoed trying to a catch glimpse of Alice but to no avail. At the corner of her eye she saw a young boy not more than the age of 14 hovering over the plates of food. His hands were inside his pocket as his eyes searched the plates. When he finally saw his target he hurried over. 

Curious, Kate followed the boy from behind, unnoticed as he was engrossed with whatever he was planning to do. He pulled out a small bottle and uncorked it before looking to his right and left, oblivious to Kate standing behind him. He was about to tip the contents over when Kate interrupted. 

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Kate scolded, snatching the bottle away from him before he could put it away. She held the bottle between her thumb and forefinger as she scrutinised it.

She had seen these bottles before. They’re usually used for magical potions. Living with a father who has his crazy spells had led her family to witness many potions being consumed by him – in hope that he will be cured.

“I was given instructions to do this!” Lloyd squeaked, his voice trembling. 

“Who?” Kate snapped, narrowing her eyes. 

“The Dowager Queen. She said to drop some in all of the King’s meals.”

* * *

  
Henry gripped the bottle tightly in his palm feeling the shape imprinting on his skin as he marched towards the North Tower. Wrath was pumping through his veins as a million questions ran through his mind. When Kate first gave the bottle to him, he didn’t want to believe it. But Kate wouldn’t have any motives against his mother and the daunting truth came to him.

Aria was right.

Guards along the hallways didn’t dare to stop Henry but instead stood close to the walls, letting him pass by. The rage in his eyes was enough to frighten them.

The door of the Queen’s room was in sight by now and he shouted at the guards to open the door.  
Mary who was sleeping was startled by the abrupt opening of the doors. She let out a mangled gasp as she saw her son marched inside, approaching the bed. 

“Hal?” she croaked. 

Henry didn’t reply or help his mother up. Instead he watched her painstakingly sit up before thrusting the potion bottle into her frail hands. 

Mary’s eyes widened when she realised what she was looking at. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes, threatening to spill if she blinks. 

“Care to explain?” Henry growled, voice dripping with rage. 

“Hal,” Mary sobbed. 

“What were you feeding me?!” he bellowed. 

Mary couldn’t answer as she choked on her tears. She didn’t know where to start. 

“TELL ME!!!” Hal screamed, snatching the bottle away from her, flinging it to the floor.

Mary flinched as the bottle smashed into pieces. 

“What were you  _feeding_  me mother?!” he repeated. 

“Hal,” she sobbed, “I only wanted the best for you.” 

“So Aria was right! You were feeding me poison! So all this while hatred I felt against the woman I love was because of you?!” 

“I meant well…” 

“No you didn’t,” Henry snapped irritably, “If you were, you wouldn’t dabble in witchcraft and manipulate your king! Your own son!” 

“Who gave you the bottle?” she asked feebly, clutching the bed sheets.

“Does it matter?! Does it?!” he spat. 

“You know what makes me sick?! The fact that you have the heart to treat me this way! What has Aria done to you?! Without her, you and I would be long dead!” 

He glared at her and growled, “All witchcraft comes with a heavy price…. What was it?!” 

There was a long pause between them until Mary whispered, “I’m paying it with my life now.” 

Henry took a deep breath, his jaw set. “Then you deserve it,” Henry said coldly through gritted teeth. 

“I’m charging you with high treason. You are no longer my mother. By tomorrow morning you will be imprisoned in the Tower of London, stripped away of your titles.” 

Henry turned on his heel, ignoring Mary’s cries. 

“You can’t do this to me!” she shrieked as the door closed behind him.

* * *

  
Aria was seated in front of her dresser while Beth braided her hair, staring blankly into space. She was torn. A part of her wanted to remain in bed, hide under the covers and come out only when she’s safe but another part of her wanted to see Henry. This part of her wished that it was her to be at his side not someone else. The very same part wished that he would realise that he made a mistake and will profess his love for her.

But alas, there is no hope. The church didn’t allow divorces.

“Your thoughts seem to be far away my lady,” Beth sounded, bringing her back to bitter reality. 

Aria cracked a weak smile at Beth’s reflection but didn’t reply. 

“You know, you could have just said no to Prince John the other day…” 

“I know,” Aria said dejectedly, lowering her gaze “But I promised.” 

“I’m sure if you back away now, he would understand,” Beth coaxed as she tied the end of the braid before tucking in the loose strands. 

“He sure will but I can’t do that to him.” 

Beth placed her hands on each side of Aria’s shoulders, gesturing for her to stand. Aria obliged. 

“He is such a good man,” Beth remarked as she straightened the chiffon ruffles on Aria’s dress. 

“Someone fancies the prince,” Aria teased, winking at Beth. Beth clicked her tongue, giving her a look of derision. 

“I’m stating the facts my lady. Prince John is a good and honourable man. The woman he loves is very lucky indeed.” She shot Aria a look when she replied. But Aria didn’t take notice.

“I know he is. I hope he finds someone who deserves him.” 

“I think he already has,” Beth quipped.

“Who is it?! How come he didn’t tell me that he is courting someone?” Aria rambled. 

Beth rolled her eyes. “I’m looking right at her!” she chided. 

“Wha- NO! That’s impossible! We’re just friends!” Aria countered.

“My lady, when a man does the things he did for you, it’s obvious he has feelings for you.” 

She stared at Beth, trying to figure out if she was joking but Beth seemed serious. 

“I don’t know about you, my lady. But if I were you, I’d grab him before he loses interest.” 

Aria didn’t reply – she was still stunned. 

“Did he tell you?” she asked nervously.

“Lady Aria, there is no need to. It is too obvious to even dismiss it,” Beth commented as she tightened the cords of Aria’s dark blue dress. 

* * *

 

The minute Beth closed the door behind her, Aria’s mind started to run through a maze. As much as she wants to deny it, a small part of her knew that John had feelings for her. 

The first clue was when he kept dropping by the library when she was having classes. The second was in Sweden. They were taking a break on a balcony, enjoying the music when he inched closer, leaning in for a kiss. Aria had thought he had too much to drink and was caught in the moment. When she turned away, he did seem disappointed but apologised profusely thereafter. Then now, he took care of her and found this very castle she’s living in.

How could she have missed all that?

If she wasn’t conflicted by her own emotions or in love with Henry still, she would have fallen for John. Who was she kidding? If she had met John first she would be instantly smitten.

But even if she could forget and get over Henry…

_I don’t deserve him at all._

* * *

  
The entire morning Henry felt horrible and conflicted. The guards had escorted the Dowager Queen to the Tower of London.

She didn’t even put up a fight and hobbled her way to the assigned carriage. Before she went in, she looked up one last time to see her son’s emotionless face. She felt immense sadness engulfing her as she sat in the carriage. She hoped that he will be spared from the enchantment.

Kate had advised him not to place her there and they rowed all morning with French vulgarities and broken English ones thrown at one another. 

Henry didn’t expect her to throw up such a huge fuss. 

“Kate,” Henry sighed, resigning, “Please. I don’t want to argue anymore.” 

“‘Arry, I know your mother did treason but she is your mother. Do people not value family anymore?!” Kate cried, angry tears streaming down her cheeks.

“First my father disowned my brother and now this. Isn’t the saying, ‘Blood is thicker than water’ comes from your England?!”

Henry rubbed his temples feeling the weight of the hollow gold crown pressing on them. It seemed to be heavier than usual. 

“If I forgive her and let her off without punishment, I would be unf-“ 

“But she is your mother ‘Arry!” Kate interrupted.

“Can you AT LEAST LET ME FINISH?!” Henry bellowed. Kate flinched. 

“I would be an unfair king if she goes unpunished. Do you know the punishment for such a high treason for nobles?! Beheading! But I’m urging the Chief Justice to look at life imprisonment. That, I believe, is more than merciful,” he barked.

“Do we really have to go through with this reception today?!” Kate snapped.

“The arrangements and invitations have been put into order. Plus you will be crowned Queen Consort today.  We can’t simply cancel!” Henry complained. 

Without warning, a stabbing pain shot through his chest as he was about to eject himself from his seat. He immediately sat back down. Groaning and rubbing his chest furiously, he eyed Kate who had her back facing him.

“Of course you can! You are the King of England!” 

 The pain subsided but the ache lingered. Ejecting himself off his seat, Henry snarled, “Even the King of England has common courtesy to not cause any inconvenience!”

He turned on his heel and left his flustered wife behind. 

* * *

  
Henry strode over to the council room, still rubbing his chest. He didn’t know what caused the blinding pain. Perhaps Sir Bradmore could take a look if it happened again. He wanted to be along in the council room to have some time alone but instead, he found John, Humphrey and Exeter inside.

They stopped bantering as his boots clicked on the stone floor.

“Brother Hal, you’re here!” Humphrey announced. 

“Come join us my liege,” Exeter persuaded as he stood up to draw a chair. Henry thanked the elder man and sat.

“Will mother be in the tower till her hearing?” John asked, clearly afraid of the answer. Henry linked his long fingers together before looking up to him. He bit his inner cheek before slowly nodding.

The men looked at one another, falling silent.

“Are we doing the right thing?” Humphrey sighed. He glanced at his elder brother nervously before biting his lip.

“Its high treason,” state Exeter, emotionless. “I knew your mother a long time… I know sometimes her judgment can be clouded,” he continued, rubbing his weathered face, “But I think Hal has been merciful.”

They grunted in agreement.

“I wish to speak to Brother John in private,” Henry announced.

As soon as they were left alone, Henry wasted no time.

“How is she?”

John folded his arms with a grim look on his face, not needing to know who his brother was referring to, “She’s doing fine.”

“Where did you place her?” Henry asked again, his face searching for answers.

“In Essex – Hadleigh Castle. Humphrey has kindly let her settle in it.”

Henry nodded, agreeing, “Now that mother’s deed has come to light, we both know why I acted the way I acted.”

“Blaming everything on witchcraft does not negate the situation, Hal.”

“I know. Which is why I want to s-”

“No!” John interrupted, glaring at his elder brother. “You are not going there and hurt her anymore!”

“Who are you to stop me?!” Henry threatened.

“You have no right in disturbing her peace! She doesn’t need you to hurt her anymore especially in her new home!” yelled John.

“Fine! I won’t! Happy?!”

John had a strong urge to punch Henry but he decided against it. Who was he kidding?

They huffed, glaring at one another, eyes locked.

“Does she know about today?” Henry asked through gritted teeth.

John was about to shake his head but he faltered. He’s bringing Aria to the banquet later. Henry would see her then.

Oh. Why was he so stupid?!

“You’re bringing her to the banquet later, aren’t you?” said Henry softly, recognising the guilty look on John’s face.

John knew it was too late to deny it.

“She wanted to come.”

* * *

 

Aria picked at her dress as the carriage started to pull them away from the castle. John had picked her up and was sitting across her, clad in his usual royal blue velvet tunic with his dark hair swept to the side. He didn’t say much when he greeted her and hastily led her to the carriage. She could sense he was uneasy but didn’t probe.

Finally he spoke, “We can turn back. You don’t have to go through this.”

Aria ignored him and continued to pick on her dress. “Aria…” John pleaded.

“I heard your mother is now in the Tower of London…” Aria spoke.

“Aye,” John sighed audibly and ran his hand through his hair.

She didn’t know why the queen was imprisoned and decided not to pursue the matter. John looked upset enough. 

“She won’t be executed right?” she asked nervously. 

“Hal decided to just imprison her for life,” he replied, emotionless. 

Aria nodded, acknowledging his pain. She reached out for his hand and squeezed it, “I’m glad she won’t be persecuted. She’s your mother after all.”

When she pulled away, John muttered, “You were right about the poison.” 

Aria furrowed her brows, “What poison?” 

“You warned Hal that Mother was feeding him poison no?” John clarified when she shot him a blank look.

Confusion pinched her features as she thought hard.

Then she remembered.

“Oh that… John I had no idea. I was speaking metaphorically. You know? Like her feeding Hal with slander about me…” 

“Oh.” 

“Wait… So she was feeding poison to Hal?! Why would she do that?!” Aria cried, alarmed.

“Not exactly poison. More like a potion that controls his emotions.” 

“An altering potion?” she trailed off, “Is that why he was angry at me all the time?” 

That would explain why he was blowing hot and cold without reason. Suddenly she wasn’t so angry anymore. But a part of her nagged that even if a potion had induced his behaviour, he shouldn’t have done what he had done.

John gulped.

He knew that if he affirmed what she said, she’ll forgive Hal. Forgiving Hal meant that his chances with her will be slim again. But at the same time, he promised not to hide anything from her. He looked away from her, staring out of the window.

“John?” Aria persisted. She wanted him to assure her even when she knew the answer.

“Why do you want to go to this reception Aria?” he whispered.

“I… John, you can’t really legislate the decisions your heart makes. As much as I wanted to hate your brother over what he did, I still want him to be happy. I still want the best for him. Perhaps maybe after seeing him finding bliss, I can move on with my life…. I don’t expect you to underst- “

“I understand,” John interrupted. He thought about himself – how he wanted the best for Aria, how he wanted her to be happy even if it means he’s sacrificing his own happiness. His heart grew heavy as his insides churned.

“Thank you,” Aria managed.

* * *

 

It had been one month and 4 days since she last saw him walking away from her. It was time to face him again and she was ready. A squire opened the door of the carriage and helped her out. When John had clambered out, he hooked his arm for her wordlessly. She took it and they went in.

The reception was in full swing when they entered.

The castle looked different from what she remembered. Crimson streamers coupled with gold ones were hung along the walls and pillars. There was lively music coming from the corner of the hall behind the dance floor and rows of long tables laden with food were arranged parallel to each other.

From where she stood, she couldn’t see Henry and she let out a cleansing breath. John tugged her forwards, greeting aristocrats and several nobles as he did. She was sure he was here somewhere. It was his wedding reception after all.

Her stomach was in knots as they went further in. John finally found Humphrey who was jesting with the Countess of Hainaut.

“Brother John! Lady Aria! Come join us!” he called as he scooted over to make space. It was obvious everyone didn’t want to address the fact that earlier during the day, the Dowager Queen had been dragged to the most formidable prison in England.

They ate and made small talk even though the brothers talked most of the time. Aria sat quietly, smiling politely to her companions.

Then she felt his gaze at the corner of her eye.

She turned and locked eyes with his. He was standing with some of the councilmen, each of them holding goblets full of wine. His blue eyes seemed brighter as the sunlight from the windows hit on them. She felt her battered heart skip a beat and coming to a stop. Her pulse fluttered as her gaze moved to his straight pointed nose and the mouth she’d dreamed of kissing her all over.

_Damn it. Why is my heart always ready to jump through fire rings for you, when all you do is break it?_

She turned her back on him and pretended to laugh at what the Countess was saying and he felt as if she had kicked him in his chest. He didn’t take his eyes off her. How could he? It felt as if he hadn’t seen her for all eternity. When she walked through the doors with John, he could not help but felt defeated.

As beautiful as she was, seeing her in the arms of another man was rather excruciating.

Aria could still feel his gaze boring through her back and felt irritated. The knots in her stomach grew tighter, making her feel hot and uncomfortable.

_Oh God why am I here? Why do I always do this to myself?!_

She glanced back and stared daggers at him. Henry didn’t bat an eyelash. He continued staring.

Infuriated, Aria excused herself from her companions and moved away from the table. Henry frowned when she stood up, leaving his brothers behind. He hastily excused himself, setting down his goblet before hurriedly following her.

It wasn’t hard to track her down. He just needed to follow the trail of swivelling heads she left behind.

Watching her walk away was much more agonising than her turning her back on him. But at the same time little currents of pleasure was shooting up his nerves. He was continuously slowed down by people, stopping to congratulate him. He waved them off lightly, not taking notice.

The only thing in his mind was Aria.  _Aria, Aria, Aria._

The further she walked into the castle, the more frustrated she became. She could hear the clicking of his boots against the stone floor and whenever she jogged, she could his boots clicking faster.

_Goodness Aria, you can’t run away forever. Face him!_

After what it seemed to be forever, she looked to her left and saw a door ajar.

_Perhaps no one will be in the room._

She pulled the door open and slipped in. She was right. It was empty.

Now it’s time to face her fears.

As she slowly turned, she heard the door creaked behind her and closed shut.

Neither of them said anything as their eyes interlocked. It felt as if a lifetime had passed since they heard or seen each other. Her sapphire blue eyes had glistened, threatening to tear if she blinked.

“Hello Aria.”

Aria held her head up high, praying that the angle would prevent her tears from falling, “Your highness.”

Hearing and seeing her again was enough to make the heaviness weighing his heart down grow. He cleared his throat before cracking a sad smile.

“How have you been my lady?”

She glared at him, “What do you think?”

He took a step forward, “Aria, please. You have to listen to me.”

“Why should I?” she cried, taking a step backwards. Standing in the same room as him brought back the horrible memory of their row. He realised how much he missed her but her cold demeanour proved that even he wants to rectify what had transpired between them, it will be futile.

“Because I have never stopped loving you. And I never will.”

Aria glared at him not noticing the single tear smearing her cheek as the words sunk in. She wanted to speak but it seemed as if all of the words in the universe had escaped, refusing to cooperate.

“The potion my mother fed me… It made my emotions erratic towards you. Most of the time, it wasn’t me speaking to you…”

Henry took a step forward and she finally found her voice, “Don’t.”

Henry looked up at her questioningly.

Aria’s voice shook as tears came streaming down, “You can’t… You can’t just waltz in here and say all those things and expect me to drop everything and accept you again. You just can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?!” Aria raised her voice in disbelief.

“You broke my heart. And you married someone else! If you had truly loved me Hal, you wouldn’t have done that!” she spat.

“I told you the po-”

“Jesus, Hal!” she shrieked, “Don’t you understand?! Even if you were induced by the potion when you married Katherine of Valois, you still had control over your own mind am I right?!”

Her words slowly sunk in, carving their way through his heart. He ignored her protests and crossed the space between them.

“I think,” said Henry slowly, “You’re the one who doesn’t understand.”

Aria fell silent as she felt him encircling his arms around her, placing his palms on the wall, trapping her. She gulped as she stared up at his bright blue eyes. The tip of his nose touched hers and she could feel his warm breath hovering over skin.

“I never stopped loving you. And I never will.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think Aria will do?


	21. Chapter 21

Aria could hear her own heart drumming in her ears. Standing so close to him brought back memories.

Painful memories.  

And her heart just has to do somersaults.

“Aria,” Henry spoke, his breath playing over her lips, “I know I’ve wronged you… Please forgive me.” 

 _Damn you Henry Plantagenet._  

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago,” she replied stiffly, her eyes still defiant. 

“Then why are you still angry?” he muttered, leaning closer, brushing his lips over hers.

If she wasn’t so hurt or conflicted, she would have kissed him. She would have surrendered and leaned in. Aria missed him, his voice, his touch, his scent on her skin - God knows what she would let him do. 

_No! He’s married! Succumbing to this desire is adultery!_

Aria frowned at his ridiculous question and immediately felt claustrophobic. She pushed him away but it was futile. He was too strong.

“Let me go Hal!” she cried, clawing at his arms. 

Henry pressed himself against her, pushing her against the wall. He gave her a whisper of a kiss on the lips before tracing his lips across her face.

“I missed you,” he whispered against the sensitive spot under her earlobe before kissing it lightly.

Despite her protests, Aria shuddered and let out an involuntary gasp. She caught herself immediately.

“I can feel that against my thighs!” she snarled through gritted teeth, still struggling against him. 

A slow chuckle rumbled through his chest, his breath tickling her ear. “Aria, that’s my codpiece.” 

Aria instantly flushed – embarrassed. “Can you please just step away?” she begged, desperate.

He breathed in her scent of apple blossoms and ylang ylang and let out a satisfied sigh. She smells intoxicating.

“Don’t you miss me?” he asked again, placing a soft kiss on the sensitive spot again. 

Butterflies fluttered around in her stomach as he did and she had a strong desire to slack against him and beg for more. 

_No! Why must her body betray her at a time like this?_

Clenching her jaw as she shook inappropriate thoughts from her head, Aria summoned all her strength and grabbed the undersides of his arm, pulling them with brute force. 

Henry howled as he stumbled back, releasing her. Tears of disbelief sprang in his eyes as he looked up at her.

“I’m not apologising for that,” she spat. 

Henry rubbed his throbbing triceps and let out a slow chuckle. 

“Oh Aria, you haven’t changed.” 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” she curtly replied, working her way around him.

He didn’t take his eyes off her as she hurried towards the door.

“You never do unlike me,” he muttered but Aria didn’t catch his words.

“You should be ashamed of yourself Hal. You’re a married man. Have a care about your wife.”

* * *

  
Aria ran her way back to the reception hall and stood in front of a worried John, panting. 

“There you are!” he cried, standing up, “Where have you been?” he asked, placing his palms on her shoulders.

Aria shook her head, not wanting to talk about it. “Can we leave?” she asked nervously, moisture glistened over her sapphire eyes. 

“What did he do to you?” he growled icily. Red hot anger exploded through his body as he realised that she had encountered Henry.

“Did he hurt you?” 

“No,” she quipped hurriedly, “Can we please just leave?!” Aria pleaded again.

He had half a mind to find Henry and beat him to a pulp.

Aria clasped her hands with his before tugging them. The warmth emitting from her hands soothed his anger.

John nodded before allowing her to pull him towards the exit.

* * *

  
Kate’s coronation as Queen Consort went smoothly despite Henry being late. The court panicked when they realised their king could not be found and neither was John. But when Henry appeared, clearly annoyed and on edge, the court ironically calmed down.

It was past midnight and they had retired to their chambers. Kate placed the jewelled gold crown on her head again. 

“How do I look ‘Arry?” she asked flirtatiously, winking at his reflection in the dresser. 

“Hmmm? Oh… Lovely. You look lovely.” 

“You’ve been distracted the entire day!” Kate scolded, lifting the crown off and hastily setting it down. She had had enough of this. Today was supposed to be about them! About her being Queen! And yet he seemed to be nonchalant over the matter! Kate was sure that it wasn’t because of his mother.

“Keep your voice down Kate. It’s past midnight!” 

“No I will not!” she shrieked again, “Can’t you pay attention to me for once?! You are nothing but a disappointment ‘Arry!” 

“What did you say?!” Henry raised his voice, shooting up from the bed. 

Kate flinched as fear flashed through her face.

Realising that he was too harsh, Henry sighed audibly, “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. Forgive me Kate.” 

“‘Arry, when I agreed to marry you, my parents told me that you’ll take care of me - that you’ll make me happy…” Kate’s mousy voice trailed off. 

“I-”

“No. I am not done! You made a vow to God when you married me. Don’t ever forget that!” 

Henry felt the dull ache in chest throb as he bit back a retort. He held up a hand to rub his chest.   
She was right. Despite his emotions, Kate is his wife.

His uncle’s words to him before he decided to go ahead with the wedding echoed _,_

_“…A marriage is an unbreakable vow between you, your future wife and God. It’s not child’s play. The church does not allow divorces…”_

Unless… 

He shook off the thoughts in his head. He can’t do that to Kate. It’s unfair to her.

But the entire night, all he thought of was Aria.

* * *

  
John set his fork down before wiping his lips with a napkin. He had insisted on staying for dinner. Aria poked at her vegetables mindlessly before taking another swig of wine from her goblet. She had gone through 2 bottles by herself. She hiccupped suddenly, not noticing that John was observing her.

“Aria,” his voice rang, tying onto her faraway thoughts and weighed them down back to reality. 

She faced him with her cheeks flushed and eyes glazed, “Yes?” 

“I apologise on my brother’s behalf. Whatever he did to you to hurt you, I’m sorry.” 

“Why do you always have to be sooo good John?” she slurred, giggling slightly.

John’s eyes widened, taken aback by her question. 

“You’re too good of -hic- a man. You’re too perf- hic- fect to -hic- exist.” She brought a hand to her lips and giggled again.

“I think you have had enough,” he said, confiscating her goblet as well as the wine bottle. He ignored Aria’s protests and handed them over to Mary before gesturing to Beth for help.

They both lifted Aria up. 

“I can stand on my own!” she whined, stumbling over before being caught in John’s arms.

The entire journey to her chambers was torturous. Aria kept stumbling and tripping over while giggling and babbling nonsense. They were a few feet away from her room when she stumbled over again, landing flat on her face. 

“Jesus!” John panted as he ran forward, turning her to the side. This time, tears were streaking across her flushed face but there were no cuts.

He gathered her in his arms carefully placing his hands under her back and legs to give support and lifted her up.

“Open the doors,” he huffed at the guard before slipping into the room. Aria had her eyes closed with her head nestled against his chest, her hand lying over his heart. Beth hastily took off Aria’s footwear as he gently lowered her down to the bed.

Aria whimpered as her head made contact with her soft pillow. John shot Beth a resigned look and was about to leave when Aria’s hand shot out gripping his right wrist.

“Don’t leave me.”

John gulped. He reluctantly plucked her fingers from his wrist but Aria clamped them back, tightening her grip.

“Aria, please,” he coaxed, attempting to break free again.

“Don’t leave me please,” she sobbed. “Please don’t…”

“Hey,” he said gently, kneeling on the floor beside her, “It’s alright. I’m here. See? I’m here, I won’t leave.”

John swept her hair to the side and tucked it in behind her ear. She closed her eyes as she felt his touch. Beth took her cue and left them alone. She paused at the door and mouthed to him that if he needed help, she’s just a shout away.

John sat on the bed, beside her, his wrist still imprisoned. She stirred again, lifting her head slightly.

 ”Hold me please,” she pleaded.

He hesitated.

He didn’t want to do anything inappropriate even though he was tempted to. It has been a long time since he had a woman.

She tugged on his wrist again impatiently and he obliged. He took off his boots, setting them next to the bed before clambering over her, fully clothed. Cracking the sheets open, he slipped under them, pulling Aria in together with him. She snuggled close to him, her head nestling against his shoulder, her left arm around it. John kissed her forehead, breathing in her scent.

Without warning, Aria lifted her head up, planting a kiss on his lips. His hand shot up, caught off-guard but quickly eased into the kiss. His right hand abandoned her shoulders and travelled to the small of her back, pressing on it, bringing her closer.

The kiss was soft but needy at the same time. Aria had combed her fingers into his dark hair, before tugging on his bottom lip and suckling it. Her left leg had wrapped itself around his hip causing her skirt to ride up. He let out a moan, feeling himself getting aroused as his hand travelled down her bare thigh. He caressed her soft baby skin as he swirl his tongue around hers.

_No! What are you doing?! She’s drunk!_

John rolled her onto her back, dragging his lips away from hers reluctantly. As much as he wanted her, this wasn’t the way. Aria whined and attempted to drag him back down for another kiss but he stopped her, removing her hands from his neck.

“We better not,” he whispered. 

“Why?” she pouted. “It feels good. I want the really good part. Don’t you?” 

John gulped.  _Yes, I do. I do want the really good part with you._

“You’re not in the right mind Aria…”

“But, but you want me too,” she whined again, she bucked her hips against his, aware of his bulge between them. 

“Not like this. I’m not taking advantage of you.” 

“It’s not taking advantage when I give you my consent.”

Aria wrapped her hands around his neck and lifted her head up to kiss him again but he sat up, inadvertently pulling her up as well.

“Is it because I’m no longer a virgin?” she asked with a quavering voice. Her hands had abandoned his neck, slacking against his chest. 

“No!” John interjected quickly. 

“I understand… No man would want me anymore… Not like this,” she continued, sweeping an arm across her length.

Her crestfallen face was enough to break his heart.

“That’s not true,” John managed, gently cupping her cheeks with both hands and lifted her face to him. He gazed her beautiful face, thumbs wiping away her tears. 

“You’re intoxicated with wine Aria. It’s the alcohol talking.” 

“I-“ 

John placed his thumb on her lips, interrupting her, “No.” 

His heart started to beat against his chest as he kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m not going to take advantage of you no matter how much I desire you right now.” 

Aria blinked at him, processing his words slowly with her slurry mind. 

She nodded and leaned in, settling against the crook of his neck, arms locking him in. She closed her eyes as she surrendered to exhaustion. John leaned against the headboard and held her till she slept.

* * *

  
John awoke with a start. Aria was still snuggled close to him, her head on his chest, hand lying over his heart. The velvet tunic he was wearing had stuck onto his skin, making him uncomfortable. He shifted slightly, careful not to wake her up and shut his eyes again.

Aria stirred from her sleep and groaned as she felt the dreadful pounding in her head. She nuzzled her pillow and was about to hide her head under it when she realised it wasn’t her pillow. It wasn’t soft and light even though it was comfortable. And why does it smell like sandalwood? She rubbed her cheek against it and felt velvet.

She cracked one eye open, squinting it as it adjusted to the sunlight penetrating through the room. She groaned as the pounding got more excruciating. A strong arm around her middle squeezed her in before she felt her pillow moving.

_Wait, pillows don’t move…. Nor do they have arms… Whose arm is this?!_

Then she realised.

It wasn’t a pillow.

It was John. 

She pushed herself off the bed and sat up stiffly making her head spin. She let out a frustrated cry, trying to keep her thoughts straight. Beside her, John stirred and frowned with his eyes still closed as he felt something moving away from him.

_Oh my god. Why is he in my bed? Did we- No it can’t be, we’re still fully clothed. But having clothes on doesn’t mean you can’t - No. Stop. John wouldn’t take advantage._

But she couldn’t help inching away from him and tugging the sheets to cover her front. She tried hard to remember what happened between them but was only met with a headache.

“Aria?” John rubbed his eyes and scratched his peppered chin. He sat up and squinted at her, huddling at the corner of the bed, hiding behind the sheets.

She peeked at him through her lashes, clearly afraid. Despite the creases on his cheek, ruffled hair and 5 o’clock shadow on his face, John still looked handsome. Her heart skipped her beat and she frowned, unfamiliar to it.

“No, no,” he began, rubbing his eyes, “We didn’t do anything inappropriate. Trust me.” 

“Really?” she squeaked. 

“You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you,” John hastily added.

Somehow he felt a teeny bit of annoyance creeping out, he felt insulted that Aria had a shadow of a doubt. 

“What happened?” she squeaked again. 

John sighed before explaining what happened last night. 

“Oh.” Aria’s cheeks burned although John skipped the part about her making advances to him.

“My apologies, your highness. I have no right to hold you hostage,” she said meekly, refusing to look John in the eye. 

“Hostage?!” John laughed, “Nay, you were intoxicated. You didn’t know what you were doing Aria,” his voice softened. 

John edged closer and reached out to lift her face up. When their eyes locked, John’s heart skipped a beat. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. I promised to take care of you remember?” 

She nodded slowly. He gave a heart-warming smile before abandoning her chin, getting off the bed and started to wear his boots. 

“I believe you need more rest. That is quite a bit of alcohol you consumed yesterday. I can only imagine what your head must feel like now.”

He gave an awkward pat on her head before leaving her alone.

Weirdly enough, Aria didn’t even notice that the pain of the hangover was gone when she realised that John was in her bed.

But it just had to come back when he mentioned it again.

* * *

  
The next few days went by fast. Henry and his councilmen had started to discuss on new conquests in France. The disowned Dauphin had rallied enough yeomen to form an army and have been uniting states to rebel against the current regime.

John expected Henry to pester him about Aria but it didn’t happen. The only time they talked was during the council meetings or discussion on military strategies with the other Lords of England. John didn’t know whether he should feel relieved or anxious.

He knew Henry too well. Between the brothers, John was the closest to Henry since young. He was only a few years younger than Henry compared to Humphrey. They played together, created mischief during their teens and fought together alongside Henry IV in wars. It was only when Henry found Falstaff and Poins that they grew apart. Albeit their disagreement on the company that Henry kept during the years before he became king, John was the only royal member who kept tabs on Henry and knew what he was up to most of the time.

He knew that once his older brother sets his mind on something, he will attempt all means to achieve it. This was what worried him. John was unsure whether Henry’s silence on Aria was because he had accepted the fact that he was already married or because he had already planned something.

“My liege,” Exeter called to Henry, “Our sources have informed us that Dauphin Charles has made arrangements to infiltrate the city of Harfleur.” 

Henry frowned at the announcement. He expected the disowned prince to rebel but not this fast.

“Did our sources say when he was planning to attack Harfleur?” John implored.

“Captain McMorris reported that his army are marching up to Calais in a week’s time, your highness,” Lord Canterbury replied. The councilmen started to turn and whisper to one another.

Henry was about to stand when a burning pain shot through his body. He yelped, clutching his heart, stumbling back to his chair. 

“My king!” the men shouted as they scrambled out of their seats to crowd around Henry.

John, who got up first, held a hand towards the men to prevent them from pressing close, “Stay back, and give him some space! He needs space!”

Henry was too much in pain to say anything and already had his forehead pressed against the edge of the oak table, still rubbing his chest in circles wanting the pain to stop.

John carefully touched his shoulder, “Brother Hal? Are you alright?” he asked, concerned. Henry only managed to groan.

His heartbeat quickened as panic started to engulf John’s body. Memories of Henry IV collapsing in this very room flashed before his eyes.

_No… No!_

“Call Sir Bradmore! NOW!” John bellowed.

* * *

 

“So you don’t know what is wrong?” John panicked. 

Sir Bradmore shook his head gravely, “The King might have heart disease but seeing that he is healthy and fit, that is almost impossible.” 

“Can’t we find out?” Kate quipped from the side of the bed, her hand on Henry’s clammy forehead. 

“My apologies your highness, with what little medical advancement we have, I’m afraid we can’t. Unless we dabble in witchcraft…” 

John was about to retort when Bradmore hastily added, “Which of course the King detests. Thus we should not.”

Kate sighed and tucked Henry in when Bradmore left. 

She turned to John and spoke, “I think it’s safer if we let him rest first…” 

John hesitated, unsure, “But my queen, what about the nation’s affairs?” he blurted out.

“I may be queen but I’m not versed with all these politics.’Arry told me you’re always there to help him with all this. I am entrusting you with the authority in the meantime.”

Henry shifted, groaning but he didn’t rouse. Worry was plastered on Kate’s face when she laced her small fingers around his long ones and held his hand close.

John nodded, “Very well.” 

He turned on his heel, leaving the room with a heavy heart. As much as he hates Henry’s guts and antics towards Aria, he still loves his older brother.

“John?” Kate called before he slipped through the door. 

“Yes my queen?” 

“I know my brother is stirring some unrest back in France. But please have mercy on him. He may have gone wayward but he is still my flesh and blood. I hope you understand.” 

“I understand,” he muttered as he thought of his relationship with Henry during his rebel days. 

He could empathise with her. Family is not a bond that can be severed easily.

* * *

  
Living in the dungeons was not something Mary expected when she became queen. She constantly thought of her late husband and how losing him, was one of the painful thing that has ever happened to her. Every time she thinks of him, her heart will plummet down and a knife will slowly carve into it. She may have tricked a noble family to take her in and all but her love for Henry Bolingbroke was true.

Tears of regret sprang to her eyes as she remembered the day she held her firstborn and vowed to keep him safe and happy.

And she failed at that.

She could imagine her husband’s disappointed face if he knew what she had done. His condescending tone he always used whenever he reprimands rang in her ears.

She wiped the tears that had streaked across her dirty face with the back of her hand before tucking in her blond locks behind her ears. There was a creak and a squeak of rat as footsteps approached her.

She came out of the shadows and was greeted by her second son. 

“My dearest John! Oh what a surprise darling!” 

She ran to him and held his face in her dusty palms. John gave her a feeble smile as he squeezed her hands. 

“Oh!” she laughed. Her fingers had left black smudges on his face. A grin hooked onto John’s lips as she tried to wipe them off. 

“It’s alright mother…” 

She couldn’t stop smiling. John was the only one who visited her here. He searched for a decent place to settle down in her cell and led her there. 

“How are you?” he asked, gently caressing her wrinkly hands. The poor living conditions and her illness had taken a toll on Mary’s appearance. Her hollowed cheeks made her bright blue eyes terribly sunken. 

“You look exactly like your father when I first met him,” she remarked, ignoring his question.

“So handsome and dark. He wasn’t a jolly fellow unlike Hal. No… Hal took after me… But both have a stubborn outlook…Yes they do… But you… You look exactly like your father without looking grim all the time,” she chuckled softly, reminiscing.

John knew she didn’t want to address the current situation. He wanted to tell her what has happened but he decided against it.

“It’s funny… I didn’t like him at first. But he made known to me that he will capture my heart.  And he sure did,” she sighed but her face was glowing. She smiled warmly at John, remembering the day she had accepted his marriage proposal.

John nodded silently as he held her hands, squeezing them affectionately as she talked. As much as he wanted to despise her for causing so much trouble, he knew she did it for a reason. A small voice in his conscious nagged at him. 

_Face it John. Without your mother, you wouldn’t be able to have Aria for yourself. Henry wouldn’t have married Kate. He would have done the opposite and all you could do is to stand by his side and watch._

“John? Why are you staring into space my dear boy?” Mary asked, tugging his clasped hands gently.

“I may need to go France again for another campaign…” he announced nervously. He looked down to his lap, as if embarrassed about his thoughts a moment ago.

“Oh you boys! Always wanting to conquer the French land… Is Henry leading again?” Mary scoffed, oblivious to her son’s body language.

“I-” John wanted to explain to her about their campaigns again but he shook his head.

 ”Mother, Henry is not leading. I am…” he spoke urgently, “He had chest pains and collapsed during the council meeting. I’m just here to deliver the news…” 

He watched the joy from her face seeped away, replaced by horror. Moisture had glistened over her bright blue eyes, threatening to spill if she blinked. 

_It has started._

She could not form the words that would probably explain the situation. Constructing her sentences was like trying to catch smoke with her bare hands. The words kept escaping and swirling around her mind, refusing to come back down and cooperate.

“Mother? You were about to say something?” John frowned, concerned.

“Is this the first time?” she managed.

“I’m not sure… Does it matter?” 

Mary didn’t answer as she retracted her hands back. She flicked her shiny eyes to John and blinked, allowing the tears to wash her smudged face that was lined with pain.

“I’m so sorry…” she muttered. “I’m just so sorry,” she sobbed. 

Her shoulders shook violently as she broke down. Confused, John settled beside her and wrapped his arms around trembling body. 

“Everything will be alright,” he persuaded, wanting her to stop crying. He couldn’t bear to watch Mary cry but he was starting to get tired of comforting people. 

Who was going to comfort him?

No one apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How the potion works: Even though it influences Henry to do things that he never meant to, it did not fully dictate his actions. In the previous chapters, he did struggle with himself and kept finding himself being angry and let his anger overtake his mind. So to those who thought Henry was drugged and thus had “non-consensual” sex with Kate, he didn’t. Because he knew what he was doing. Fully aware of it I might say.


	22. Chapter 22

Henry hated being a weakling. He seldom gets sick and the only times he was confined to his bed were due to injuries sustained in battles. The chest pain was not entirely gone. The ache lingered even when it has been a few days. Exeter had ordered 2 knights to fetch the enchanted spring water for him. He hoped that they return sooner because he never liked being fed nor have sympathetic looks shot at him - especially from Kate.

She insisted on taking care of him around the clock and made him feel inadequate. Whenever he tried to argue, his chest would ache threateningly.

A rapt knock on the door startled Henry. He sat up gingerly, pushing down the sheets before calling the visitor in. He searched around for Kate but it seemed that she had left him alone.

Exeter, Humphrey and John came in together, nodding at him as they stood in front of his bed.

“Why the looks on your faces?” he remarked at their grave expressions.

All three of them glanced at each other before John spoke, “How are you feeling brother?”

“You can judge by my appearance Brother John. No need to look so afraid. I am well and alive,” Henry replied sarcastically.

“Very well,” Humphrey answered.

Henry rolled his eyes as he sat up higher. “What news do you bring me my three musketeers?”

If the situation at hand was not serious or dangerous, they would have laughed.

John raised his eyebrows at Henry’s failed attempt to joke, “About Dauphin Charles advancements on Harfleur… Our men reported that his army have passed Calais and entering Agincourt in a few days…”

Henry knitted his brows, disbelief plastered on his chiselled face. “That fast?!”

“Yes! I think we need to send resistance as soon as possible. From the looks of it, they will not hesitate to attack as soon as they reach the city gates…” John said grimly.

Henry opened his mouth to say something when the door creaked and Kate entered. She was surprised to see the company Henry had and immediately got angry.

“Why are you in our chambers?! Don’t you all know that the king needs his rest?!”

“With utmost apologies my queen,” Exeter said, “But we must address an important issue and we need the King’s authorisation.”

Annoyance pinched Kate’s features as she stared daggers at John, “I already gave Prince John the authority to oversee these matters!”

“Dearest Kate, you don’t have to raise your voice at my company,” Henry interrupted, his voice laced with quiet menace. Kate swore under her breath and folded her arms impatiently. Henry turned his attention back to the three men.

“Go you Brother John to Harfleur. Bring good Uncle Exeter and our troops with you.”

They looked at one another, surprised. “Then who would be handling the affairs here while you recover my liege?” Exeter mused, worry lining his withered face.

Henry raised his brows, “Well Brother Humphrey of course! I think he did a commendable job during our campaign. You won’t disappoint us won’t you Brother Humphrey?”

Humphrey, who was still taken aback, bobbed his head wordlessly. His eyes were wide with shock as he shot John a questioning look.

John glared at Henry.

It was obvious. Henry didn’t want John to spend more time with Aria. This was just a deliberate ploy for John to be out of the way. He knew John would have played hero when she moved out of the castle.

_If you think you can easily take my place in her heart, then you’re wrong._

John huffed, exasperated. “So be it then. Let’s pray that this campaign will not change our stakes in France or anything else for that matter,” he sarcastically replied.

Henry smirked with a malevolent glint in his bright blue eyes, “It all depends on you, Brother. It’s all on you.”

* * *

“And you’re sure you have enough men with you?” Aria asked as soon as John finished telling her that he will be sailing off to France.

“Aye. You don’t have to worry,” he assured her as he held out his hand to caress her soft cheek.

Even though she was taken aback by his sudden gesture she was too preoccupied feeling relieved that she won’t be involved. The aftermath of the war had taken a toll on her. She finally understood why Henry sometimes lay awake at night, unable to sleep with a haunted look in his eyes.

It’s the same recurring nightmare. Blood-soaked men wielding their swords would chase after her. They would scream in her ear and when they caught her eventually, all of them would bury her beneath them. The nightmares weren’t regular but most of the time she woke up in cold sweat, screaming. Beth would always barge in, putting her arms around her as she comforted her mistress.

“I…” John stammered as his palms got clammy. “Well, nevermind,” he waved off.

“What is it?” Aria looked at him expectantly.

John could only shake his head. He wanted to confess to her but something held him back. Her reaction when she realised he was in her bed was enough to tell him that she didn’t feel the same way. Instead John took a step back, sighed and told her what happened to Henry.

“Is he alright?!” she almost shouted, alarmed. As much as she was angry at him, she didn’t want him to suffer any misfortune.

“We’ve sent two knights to fetch the spring water in your village. Hopefully it will cure whatever that is bothering him.”

“Hopefully,” Aria said wistfully to the ground. She wondered who was nursing him and her heart plummeted 6 feet under the ground when she was reminded that he was married.

“I do have one piece of good news for you,” John professed giving her his usual shy smile. She flicked her head up, curious to know what he was up to.

“Your parents will be here by tomorrow. I have requested for them to be brought here and live with you.”

“Oh!” Aria gasped, unable to hide the joy in her eyes.

John grinned when Aria lunged forward and locked her arms around his neck.

“Thank you! I have missed them so much!”

He nodded against her shoulder as he straightened. “I know. And I know you need them too…”

She squeezed him tightly in her arms, grateful for what he had done. John pulled away slightly to look at her. “This is farewell then.” His voice wavered.

“Please come back safe,” she whispered. He embraced her again in response, breathing in her scent.

_I love you._

John didn’t want to let her go but reluctantly released her. “I’ll try my best,” he answered before giving her a weak smile.

When he rode away, Aria knew a tiny piece of her heart had belonged to John.

* * *

Henry gulped mouthfuls of the spring water from the goblet and let out a satisfied sigh. He could feel the lingering ache in his chest dissipate and strength returning to his limbs. His fingertips buzzed with energy when he passed the goblet to Kate. He gave Kate his famous teeth-baring grin. She let out a relieved chuckle and crossed herself.

“Bless the lord in heaven for thee has saved my king,” she murmured. Henry followed suit and could not help but let happiness consume him.

“I’ve never seen you so happy before ‘Arry!” Kate remarked as he leapt out of the bed, stretching himself.

“What’s not to be happy about? My health has returned and the effect of the potion must have lifted as well!” he quipped, unable to suppress his glee.

“Where are you going?!” Kate cried, watching Henry changing into his usual calfskin attire.

“I’m going to vi-” he stopped himself midsentence just in time. He finished buttoning his jacket and combed his hair back with his long fingers before turning to her.

“I have to uh… I have certain matters to take care of,” he said, clearing his throat. He suddenly felt nervous.

“Your brother can do it! He has been doing it very well!” Kate cried again, suspicious of her husband’s behaviour. Henry sighed and hastily kissed her forehead as if to appease her.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

* * *

The cold spring air was fresh and crisp as Aria slung her bow and a handful of arrows onto her back. She had not seen her bow and arrows ever since they came back from France. She requested for Beth to stow them away when they constantly reminded her of the war and her nightmares.

But today, her foster parents will be here by nightfall and they need to prepare a sumptuous meal for them. At first some of the servants wanted to buy some pork at the market but Aria protested. She knew her father hated pork for some unknown reason and his favourite meat has always been deer. Thus she decided to go hunting for one herself.

The dried leaves crunched under her boots as she ventured further into the woods. It has been sometime since she hunted. She remembered her first time hunting. Her father had made her a set of miniature bow and arrows. He taught her how to use her senses to detect game nearby. It was also her first time using her weapons and she impressed him by hitting the deer, they brought home, right at its heart.

She sniffed the air and grinned. An animal was near. She crouched down as she followed the scent soundlessly as possible.

Standing 15 feet away from her was a young deer that had just matured. It grazed the grass growing around an oak tree and flapped its tiny ears. Aria extracted an arrow slowly, placing it against the bow before taking aim. She held her breath as her fingers released the arrow.

Bull’s eye!

The animal let out a whimpered cry as the arrow pierced through its skin. Aria released another arrow to instantly kill the animal.

“You know, you never told me who taught you archery.”

Aria froze. And then she sighed.

She slung her bow on her right shoulder before turning towards the speaker poker-faced.

Henry was leaning on his shoulder against an oak tree. He unfolded his arms when she turned and gave her a wistful smile.

“Good morrow my love,” he greeted her, bowing slightly.

Aria simply stared at him.

“What do you want Hal?” she said with no trace of emotion. She knew this day would come. She had a feeling that John was protecting her from Henry and the only way to get to her was getting rid of the obstacle. Sending his younger brother to France was just like another move on the chessboard to get to the queen.

Henry raised an eyebrow. “My love, you haven’t answered my question,” he reminded.

Aria clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, annoyed.

“My father,” she replied stiffly. She turned and marched towards the dead animal to inspect it.

“Mr Mason you mean?” Henry clarified. Aria ignored him. Henry approached and stood facing her and the dead animal.

“Why are you hunting anyway? Did John not give the servants enough money to buy meat?” Henry folded his arms as he watched her place a hand on the deer to feel for a pulse.

She snapped her head up impatiently. “Don’t speak of him like that! You should be grateful to have a brother like him.”

Henry huffed, unfolding his arms and placed them on his hips.

“What he does for me as a sibling and as a royal member of the family has got nothing to do with this,” Henry chided.

“My father likes deer meat. The market doesn’t sell deer meat,” she interjected, silencing him immediately. Henry gave her a confused look.

“My parents are coming today. They are to live here with me,” Aria explained irritably.

“Oh. Then why didn’t you say so earlier?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Because talking to you likens to a conversation with a stone slab. You don’t listen when you don’t want to!”

Henry took no notice of her insult. He had never thought of bringing Aria’s foster parents back to the castle. She had never expressed her desire to see them again. This confuses him.

“You have never mentioned of seeing them again to me.” His eyes were apologetic as he looked to the ground almost embarrassed.

“I was too caught up with you and the new life you introduced me to…” she answered, her voice growing softer.

Aria had turned away from him, abandoning the animal. The guilt she felt was immense. It was selfish of her to leave them behind with no news of her. Memories of her childhood flashed in front of her eyes as she wringed her hands.

“It was only a passing remark to John that I missed them. I didn’t expect him to make the arrangements. Because who am I to impose? I’m just a commoner who got lucky,” she bitterly said.

“You were god-sent,” Henry pointed out. He hated it whenever she doubted herself.  
“Without you, I would probably be dead right now.”

He was about to reach for her shoulder when Beth and two squires appeared.

“My apologies for interrupting you, your highness,” Beth greeted him, curtsying in the process. “But Lady Aria’s parents have arrived.”

“They have?” Aria quipped excitedly, temporarily forgetting Henry’s presence. “I was expecting them much later!”

Beth and the squires carried the deer back to the castle with Aria and Henry following their lead.

“I have led them to their room, my lady,” Beth informed. She looked questioningly at Aria, still uncertain why the King was in their company. Aria shrugged and thanked her.

Henry strode next to her in silence. He wanted to talk to her but not in front of others. He could sense that Aria was uncomfortable about the situation. Her parents just had to arrive earlier than expected. He wasn’t sure if he was invited to this welcome feast but wouldn’t her parents want to know how the king has been treating their daughter? It would be common courtesy to stay.

“Aria, my girl!” Mrs Mason squealed. She hastily set the silver candleholder she was busy inspecting, back down to its original position and held out her arms.

Aria ran towards the elder woman and embraced her tightly. Tears of joy washed over their faces as Mrs Mason kissed her foster daughter’s face all over.

“You’ll suffocate her Mathilde!” Mr Mason scolded before embracing them both. He tiptoed to kiss Aria’s cheek and grinned at her.

“Just because you can’t kiss her without tiptoeing Francis, doesn’t mean I can’t!” Mrs Mason quibbled.

Mr Mason chose to ignore her. “You look so grown up and much more beautiful!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“You look exactly like your mother except your eyes. You have your father’s eyes,” Mrs Mason murmured as she cupped Aria’s cheeks, gazing her face.

Henry, who was behind Aria when they came in, had leaned against the doorframe. He had always been envious of other families. Nobles are never affectionate towards their own family. To think about it, he has never had an affectionate embrace from his parents. He could only remember the painful ‘loving’ talk his father gave him before he collapsed, letting the angel of death kiss him.

He wondered if he could maintain a close and doting relationship with his children if he was blessed with them. He didn’t want his children to be like him, cold and rebellious just because he had issues with his own father. ,

“Your highness! Our utmost apologies for not noticing you!” Mrs Mason greeted Henry. The Masons bowed their heads to give their respect.

Henry broke into his famous grin and waved their apology off. “No need to be very formal Masons. We are in Lady Baudouin’s residence, not mine.”

Henry excused himself and left them alone to banter before venturing into the castle. Humphrey was endowed with this castle when their father was crowned King. They occasionally used this castle for winter vacations but when rebellions started to ensue, they remained in the main castle. Henry was not sure if Humphrey ever came here again but the fact that he allowed Aria to settle down here proved that he didn’t have any use for this place.

Henry explored the castle, reminiscing his teenage years. The furniture remained the same despite being worn out. He thought of the times when his brothers played sword fighting with candleholders along the hallways, how they hid behind draperies and scared their sisters. The thought suddenly made him miss John.

He knew sending him to Harfleur was a necessary ploy to separate him from Aria. Despite that, he couldn’t help but to feel guilty. He never thought his brother would fall for her. If he had known, he would have arranged for John to be betrothed much earlier instead of forcing him to be his right-hand man, preoccupying him with state affairs.

He made his way to the drawing room and sat down. He fiddled with his father’s room on his finger, closing his eyes. No matter how much he hated John for loving the same woman, he wanted him back safe, in one piece.

A few hours later, Beth announced to the reunited family that dinner was being served and Henry was waiting for them in the dining room.

Aria became perplexed. “Why is he still here?” she mouthed to Beth. Beth could only shrug in response.

They proceeded to the dining room and sat down for the meal. Throughout the course of the meal Aria observed Henry. She was still confused as to why he had invited himself but kept her mouth shut. She didn’t want to ruin the night.

Mr Mason whooped when the deer dish was brought out and devoured his piece. Despite Aria’s misgivings, Henry was the perfect host. He jested with the Masons, making them feel at ease, divulged them on Aria’s education and assured that her future was secure.

“I have to apologise for busying your daughter till she could not visit you back home,” Henry confessed.

Mrs Mason dismissed him, “There is no need for a king to apologise to commoners like us. Taking care of our dear girl and giving her all of these is more than enough. It is everything that we could have ever wished for.”

She beamed at Henry before turning to Aria, still smiling. “She may not be our flesh and blood, but she is our child.”

* * *

After dinner the Masons excused themselves to their rooms before embracing Aria one last time.

“Good night my dear. Our old bones are begging for us to retire,” Mr Mason haggled.

Aria nodded. “I understand Papa. Go to bed. Beth will lead you back to your room.”

Aria watched her foster parents ascended the stairwell till they were no longer in sight. She was turned around, going the opposite direction towards her chambers when Henry slipped out of the shadows, leaning against her door frame instantly shocking her.

“Jesus!” she shrieked, slapping a hand to her chest.

“Before you evict me off this castle,” he started, “I need to speak with you.”

The candlelight was playing against his sculptured face, outlining his sharp cheekbones and nose. He looked so handsome she wanted to reach out and touch him but of course she didn’t. She rolled her eyes in attempt to look annoyed with him.

“Whatever it is you want to say Hal, get it done and over with.”

“Are you going to invite me inside?” He shifted his weight on one foot and gestured to her door which was a few feet away.

“No.”

Henry stared at her for a moment unable to form his words. His thoughts kept jumbling up and refused to be coherent.

“If you don’t have anything to say Hal, I suggest you return to your residence. It’s not kind to have your wife wait for you.” She moved past him, to reach the safety of her chambers before she burst into tears. She hated it when he has to see her cry.

Henry reached out and grasped her arm, “Aria, please don’t walk away from me again.”

Aria stopped. She had half a mind to twist her arm from his grasp but she didn’t. There was something in his voice that caught her attention. Something in the way he’d said her name.

“Again?”

“Aria Baudouin, you’ve walked away from me more times than I could remember and each time I watched you go, running away from me, was like a stab to my heart. I know I’ve hurt you. I know I did injustice towards you, but don’t you think it’s even now?”

Henry pulled her closer to him. “Don’t you think it’s time for me to make it up to you?”

He pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I love you and we belong together.”

Aria bit back a retort. As much as she wanted to lash out at him, she could feel exhaustion weighing on her bones. She realised that his words had tugged her masochistic heart, making it swell. Annoyed with her own treacherous heart, she pulled away from him, unable to hide the tears that had welled up.

Henry’s hands shifted and grasped her elbows. “Aria… Please listen to me. I have found a way out of my marriage.”

Aria flicked her eyes to his but continued to struggle. Her insides were churning. A huge part of her wanted to know while the other was too angry to listen.

“I could annul my marriage. I married Katherine when I was under the influence of witchcraft. It’s invalid.”

Aria gaped at him as his words sunk in. She blinked and stopped struggling.

“If you’re jesting Hal, I suggest you stop,” she murmured. Henry’s grip on her elbows slackened. His face softened as he leaned forwards, nuzzling her nose before speaking.

“I’m not,” he assured her, his breath playing over her lips. Aria was still doubtful even though a huge part of her wanted to believe.

“With the council aware of my mother’s deeds, I can easily direct them to annul my marriage… Trust me.”

Henry was desperate for her to believe in him. Ever since he saw her during the reception he couldn’t shake her off. Even when he was preoccupied with politics, his mind would wander off, thinking about her. When he was asleep beside Kate, she came into his dreams, as she always had. He found himself murmuring her name when he awoke, leaving him feeling hollow and lonely. Especially waking up next to a woman he has no feelings for.

Henry placed his hands on her shoulders, kissing the top of her head before wrapping his lean arms around her. Henry pulled back slightly. “I’m so sorry,” was all he could muster.

“I know that I have wronged you. I’m reminded of my mistakes every morning when I wake up. Every night when I go to bed I wish it was you by my side. And every time I wake, I wish it was you beside me. It pains me every single time when I look at my wife and it isn’t you.”

“You said I wasn’t worthy,” she said with a quavering voice.

“I never meant to… Aria, if I didn’t appreciate your courage when you first saved me, I wouldn’t have brought you into my life and fall in love with you.”

Henry breathed in her sweet scent as he traced the length of her neck with the tip of his nose. She shuddered and let out an involuntary moan when his lips brushed the spot below her right earlobe.

“Do you still love me?” he whispered in her ear. She slacked against him as he gave her chaste kisses on her neck and collarbone.

“Yes… I still love you.”

Henry caressed her cheek with the back of his knuckles before leaning forward, kissing her softly. Aria’s arms snaked around his neck as she kissed him back eagerly.

A tiny voice in her head protested.  _Aria! What are you doing? How can you forgive him just like that?!_

_But, but he was bewitched against his will… He… He didn’t know what he was doing…_

Henry’s right hand had abandoned her cheek and travelled to the small of her back, pressing her closer to him. His lips moved against hers, parting them as his tongue slipped inside, exploring her mouth.

She unbuttoned his leather jacket, moaning as he loosened her dress. He pressed her against the wall, moulding their bodies together.

“Hal,” Aria gasped as she reluctantly pulled away. His eyes were hooded so low that she could barely see their colour. He leaned in to kiss her again but she stopped him.

“I think we should go inside,” she whispered, her breath played over his lips. She inched towards the door and opened it.

They slipped inside and locked it immediately. Along the way towards the bed, he lost his jacket and she, her dress and chemise. Henry kicked off his pants and boots and crawled onto the bed. He hovered above her before swooping in, kissing her lips greedily.

“I missed you,” he murmured. He caressed her skin making her shiver before palming her breasts. He slid down and laved her right nipple, watching her eyes cloud with desire. He parted her legs, his tongue still attentive to her breasts. He suckled them as her fingers combed through his hair.

He ran a finger along her wet lips, making her moan his name. Aria jerked from the intensity of the sensation and arch from the bed. She was surprised at how sensitive she was to his touch. But given that she had been distressed for these past few months without any sexual contact, it was no wonder.

He abandoned her breasts, coming up for kiss and fingers still on her wet slit. She kissed him back hungrily, grasping his strong shoulders. He dipped them inside returning wet and slippery to her clit.

“Hal-” she gasped, writhing against him as he moved his fingers against her clit in circles.

“I love touching you where you’re hot and slick. You feel so good my love.”

Aria could only moan in response, hearing her breath quickened. Henry knelt between her legs and lowered his body to cover her body with his. He balanced his weight on his forearms beside her head. He lined his cock to her slit and slowly entered her, stretching her and filling her till he was buried deep.

Henry grunted in pleasure before he searched her lips for a kiss. When he started to move his hips, slowly pulling back before sheathing himself in her flesh again, it felt so exquisite that Aria cried out his name, digging her nails into his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his waist.

His hips moved faster, pounding into her relentlessly. Their moans were interspersed with moans and sharp intakes of breaths. Aria could feel herself clenching over him.

“Oh God – Yes!” she gasped, feeling waves of pleasure plough through her body. Henry cried out as he felt her reaching her peak, squeezing his eyes shut before his muscles locked, shuddering at the impact of his own climax.

He finally collapsed on top of her, boneless, chest heaving. He kissed her lips softly, gathering her in his arms as he rolled onto his side.

He lined her face with chaste kisses before travelling to her right earlobe. “I love you, Aria.”

* * *

When Aria awoke, Henry was gone. Sunlight had penetrated the room, lighting it up. She wanted to stay in bed when she suddenly remembered that her parents must have been waiting for her downstairs. Pushing off the covers, she hurried over the basin of water Beth had prepared and started to clean herself.

“There she is!” Mr Mason boomed as Aria entered the dining room. She smiled apologetically to them and settled down.

“I hope you haven’t starved,” she joked. The Masons chuckled as they shook their heads. They ate their breakfast while bantering about what they plan to do with their day.

“I want to enjoy the gardens. That dear Margret girl told me that the flowers had bloomed beautifully this spring!” Mrs Mason quipped excitedly, clapping her hands.

“Mathilde…”Mr Mason said warningly, “It is rude for us to decide what to do without seeing if Aria has anything in store for us…”

Aria slapped her forehead. How could she forget? Her foster parents were so used to working and moving every single day, they wouldn’t be used to staying in and doing nothing.

“I’m sorry Papa. But I haven’t had the time to plan anything for you both,” she said, her voice soft and ashamed.

“There, there dear girl. It’s not your responsibility to watch over us. I am sure we can entertain ourselves,” Mrs Mason comforted her, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

Later that morning Margret brought Mrs Mason to the gardens while Mr Mason decided to go to the stables and see the horses. There were only a pair of them and even though they were useful and prime beasts, Aria never felt connected to any of them. She still mourns for Redfire’s lost in France.

She scrutinised the pile of unread books on her desk , picking one of them out and was about to crack it open when Beth knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

She continued reading the introduction of the book and heard Beth’s dress swishing as she approached.

“Lady Aria, I have something for you,” she said nervously. Aria turn to look at her questioningly as Beth handed her a sealed letter.

“I have been meaning to give you this letter but there wasn’t an appropriate time,” she apologised.

Aria inspected the envelope. Her name was written on it, loopy and cursive yet neat. The red wax seal on the opening proved that it was from the royal family.

“Who gave you this letter, Beth?” she asked.

“One of Prince John’s squires. He delivered it yesterday before we met you and the King in the woods.”

Aria nodded mindlessly. She looked up to Beth once again and thanked her.

As soon as Beth left the room, Aria broke the wax seal of the envelope and slipped the letter out. Her heart pounded as she unfolded it. The handwriting on the parchment identical was to the one on the envelope.

_Dearest Aria,_

_By the time you read this letter, I would have been on the ship, sailing towards Harfleur. I write to you in fear that I might not return to the English soil. I know I had bid farewell to you but I felt that my ability to express my emotions to you was hindered by my cowardice. I apologise for that. I’m neither charming nor charismatic unlike my brother._

_I still remember the night we conquered Harfleur. It was a frightening experience was it not? I have been through many battles in my life but I have never been on a territorial campaign. That night we made camp and despite the situation at hand, the stars were bright, smiling down at us. I remember looking up to the twinkling stars with you by my side. I remembered the pain I felt when I thought of the imminent death threat the situation brought us. I remember wanting to reach out and hold you tight after that thought. I wanted to keep you safe and warm. I’ll never forget that._

_I remember our first dance together in Sweden. You were so nervous that you kept stubbing my feet. I was lucky that they weren’t too battered thereafter. And the time we made fun of a history book in the library? It was the first time I heard your laugh. And I thought to myself; I want to make you laugh and smile all the time._

_What I am trying to express here is that, Aria Baudouin, you have seared yourself to my heart unlike the others. I have never been in love nor have I been smitten by another woman until you. I know you must think that this is strange considering the fact that I knew of your relationship with my brother. Truth is I had no knowledge of it until the campaign. But nevertheless, my feelings remained even though I knew you would not feel the same way._

_I just wanted you to know my true feelings for if I do not return from France, at least you knew that I loved you till my last breath._

_But if I do return my dearest Aria, I promise that I will care for you till my last breath._

_I know that you are still nursing your broken heart. I know it will take time for you to forget my brother but I shall nonetheless wait for you patiently. I have no care for your parentage or your chastity. I love you and want to care for you and the best way to do so is to ask your hand in marriage when you are ready._

_This I promise you._

_Love,  
John Plantagenet_

Aria traced the written words with the tip of her fingers, repeating each word in the letter silently to herself. Even though she knew of John’s feelings, reading the affirmation of his love was still surprising.

She thought of Henry’s promise last night. Her heart had soared up above the sky and somersaulted out of happiness when he declared his love to her. The picture Henry had painted for them in the future was too beautiful to throw away. She wondered if he hadn’t come to find her yesterday.

If he hadn’t, she would have been happy to accept John’s proposal when he returns.

But now?

Now, she just felt like she had betrayed both of them.


	23. Chapter 23

Henry led his grey stallion into the stables. Opening the door of its stall, he tugged the horse’s rein forwards and it obliged. Once he ensured that it was safe and secure inside its stall, he called for a stable boy to feed it.

Henry thought of Aria and how they made up last night as he walked out of the stables. He couldn’t help but smile. Her forgiveness meant the world to him. When he broke the news to her, he was so afraid that she’d reject him and he couldn’t bear that. He didn’t want to lose her anymore. Losing her once was enough. He just needed to get his marriage annulled as soon as possible.

“I hope you have a good reason why you only return now.”

The grin plastered on Henry’s face was painfully ripped off. It took him awhile to register who was reprimanding him.

_Kate. The Queen. My wife._

The last thought hit him hard and made his heart grew heavy. He was so caught up with Aria that he forgot about Kate. He bit the inside of his cheek, instantly annoyed.

“Henry Plantagenet! You answer me right now!” she shrieked. Kate reached out and grabbed his arm.

“What do you want?!” Henry yelled, shaking her hand off.

“Did you fool around in that tavern again?!” Kate yelled as Henry peeled her fingers off his arm.

Henry narrowed his eyes and growled, “What tavern?”

Kate met his eyes with defiance. “That wretched tavern, you fooled around with those low lives!”

Henry was rendered speechless.  _Who told her this?! That was 3 years ago! Way before I met her!_

“Do I look like a fool to you?! A king doesn’t fool around in a peasants’ tavern!” Henry raised his voice. He snatched his arm away, scowling at her.

“Then where have you been ‘Arry?” Kate asked softly. One might mistake the sudden change of tone to be fear but she wasn’t. She just wanted to know.

Henry immediately softened, realising that he was too harsh to her yet again. He sighed and looked at Kate through his lashes.

“I’m sorry Kate. I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

“You just recovered from this unknown ailment and then you went capering off I know not where! How do you expect me to not worry?” Her voice was barely audible now.

“I know,” Henry replied. He reached out and squeezed her left shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, before working his way around her, moving towards the castle.

Was he willing to throw away France for Aria?

Yes. He was.

At the same time, it would be unfair to shackle Kate to him. A loveless marriage is as good as imprisonment.

Kate watched him walk away from her and burst into tears. She knew something was up. As much as she wanted to deny it but it seemed that the women of Valois were all cursed. First it was her mother - married to her father who became insane. Her eldest sister, Isabella wasn’t spared either when she married the usurped Richard II. And now the baton was passed to her - Married to a man who clearly used her as a tool of politics and will probably never love her.

* * *

By the time they reached the French borders, the French rebels had infiltrated through Harfleur. Thousands of French soldiers were lined up along the beach ready for battle.

“Once we land, my liege, they will attack,” Exeter stated the obvious to John. He could only nod grimly. The situation reminded him of Agincourt. It didn’t help that the skies were dark and thunder had clapped several times. The number of soldiers assembled on the beach seemed double of their own troops.

“Inform the soldiers to be ready.”

As the ship drew nearer to the beach, all John could think about was whether he’d return to England. He closed his eyes, letting the cold sea breeze caress his face as he thought about the letter he wrote to Aria and his promise.

_I’ll come back for you._

The ship jerked, halting to a stop as it hit the shore. John opened his eyes and faced the bitter reality.

It’s time.

* * *

Aria had been restless ever since the morning she read the letter. She continuously found herself thinking about it and the promises it held. Her mind would wander to Henry and  _his_  promises and her heart will twist and turn at the thought of having to choose. She wished it was much simpler than this.

At the same time, she was angry with both brothers. If John had not caught her when she fell from disgrace, she would have an easier life – she would have returned back to her village as if nothing had happened. She wouldn’t have had the chance to lead him on. If Henry wasn’t so susceptible to his mother’s slander, they wouldn’t be in this position. She would have been happily married to him right now. But then again, the queen dowager was cunning and manipulative…

And now, John  _just_  had to write that letter to her.

Although she knew she did not have romantic feelings for John now, she knew if she was given time, she would. She wondered if John knew of Henry’s plan to annul his marriage. But she suspected that his deploy to France was Henry’s manipulation.

She could neither focus on her reading nor hosting her parents. They kept snapping her out of her thoughts and furrowed their brows when they manage to capture her attention. Even Beth, Mary and Margret had a tough time engaging her in a proper conversation – most of the time they would leave her alone.

It has been three days since she read the letter and Aria was sitting in the drawing room, her thoughts far away. Henry had sent a note saying that he will visit soon once he settles state affairs – which she seemed thankful for. She doesn’t need him to muddle with her already cluttered mind.

She absentmindedly fiddled with her half woven basket. Mathilde was chatting with all of Aria’s handmaidens animatedly before she noticed her daughter had not spoken a word. She sighed as she put down the basket she was weaving and nod her head to Aria at the others. Mary and Margret could only shrug but Beth had a plan.

“Mrs Mason, don’t you think that it is about time Lady Aria gets married? She’s of marriageable age. Surely she has to soon enough?”

_WHAT?!_

Aria snapped out of her daydream and flicked her head up at the mention of her name.

“Aye! You’re right!” Mathilde quipped, suddenly interested.

Aria narrowed her eyes at a smirking Beth.

_What are you up to, you sly woman?!_

“Lady Aria used to live in the main castle. But after some complications, Prince John was the one who brought her here to Essex and took care of her welfare!” Beth chirped again, grinning.

“Oh! I thought the King had!” Mathilde seemed confused. She hadn’t met nor heard of this said prince. She didn’t know Aria was staying in the main castle. She had the impression that the King had bestowed her with wealth and stature and allowed her to mind her business.

Aria hissed, “Elizabeth Mollun! What are you doing?!”

Beth ignored her. “Nay! The king did grant Lady Aria’s status but-“

“Mama! How are the roses in the garden?” Aria interjected, silencing Beth.

“Wha- the roses? Oh they are fine… But but…”

Aria shot up from her seat and helped the elder woman up by her right arm. “Then you must show me!” Aria said hurriedly.

As they made their way out of the room, Aria turned and cringed up her face to Beth. Beth poked her tongue out mischievously as the door closed behind Aria. Aria and Mathilde walked to the garden in silence. Mathilde wanted to address what had transpired in the drawing room but it seemed that Aria was trying to avoid it.

“Aria, what has been bothering you my child?” Mathilde asked, concerned.

Aria didn’t answer immediately. She was too busy trying to comprehend her own feelings.

“Aria… Are you not happy that Francis and I are here now? Did the King invite us here without your permission?” Mathilde asked again. This time she sounded more worried and nervous.

“Mama! Don’t say that,” Aria denied quickly, “I’m happy that you’re here! And… Who invited you here again?”

“I… I am not sure,” Mathilde scrounged up her nose as she thought hard. “I know it was some squire telling us that a carriage will arrive for us and there was a letter. But you very well know, we can’t read - the letter looked official enough so we just took its word for it.”

“Mama, you’re lucky the letter is not some ploy to hurt you!”

“My dear girl, Francis and I may be illiterate but we’re clever!” she haggled, pointing to her temple as she emphasised her point.

Aria grinned, “I know.”

They arrived at the gardens and chose to seat near the duck pond. The flowers were blooming, colours vivid and bright. Companionable silence settled upon them as they watched the ducks fluttering around the pond and quacking.

Finally Mathilde broke the silence. “Aria, something’s bothering you my child. Please tell me,” she coaxed, placing a hand on her daughter’s.

Aria hesitated. She wondered if her mother would judge her. She knew she wasn’t perfect and far from being an angel but she only wanted her mother to think that she was a good person. Not a home wrecker and an ingrate.

But then she relented. No point hiding everything.

“I’m not sure how to start Mama…” her voice trailed off.

“Why don’t you start from the very beginning? Why did you decide to leave the village?”

Aria gulped. “It’s a long stor-“

“We have plenty of time dear,” Mathilde interrupted, squeezing Aria’s hand, encouraging her.

“I’m not sure if you knew this Mama, but I was the one who killed the dark ones when they attacked our village – The night when the Gofrics lost their youngest daughter?”

Aria couldn’t bear to look at her mother. Guilt and shame blanketed her as she thought about that night.

“I knew,” Mrs Mason answered quietly. “I could tell by the arrows on the dark ones’. I can tell by your father’s craft.”

“I’m so sorry,” Aria sobbed. Tears of guilt had welled up in her eyes.

“Why are you sorry?” Mathilde asked as if her apology was ridiculous. She grasped Aria’s shoulder to hold her up, searching her face.

“Because I became a murderer that night. I thought I could stop. But when I heard men screaming the night when I found the King, I killed again without hesitation…The night when my hut was burnt down, the leader tracked me down. I killed him too Mama! I thought I could erase all that memory when the King persuaded me to go to London with him. But then, I went to war and the men I –”

She couldn’t continue anymore. It was too painful. And all of a sudden, it felt as if the entire burden she had been carrying with her for the past few months was finally burying her. She wished that she would feel better after spilling her guts out but she felt worse. Aria covered her tear-streaked face with her hands, trying to stop the dam of tears. But she failed miserably.

Mathilde bit her tongue, fighting the urge to shake Aria hard. Instead, she gathered Aria in her arms and held her tightly as Aria’s body shuddered, breaking down.

“You’re not a murderer my child… You were protecting the people you love, your own life! And your country!” Mathilde crooned. “You’re my child. And my child is not a murderer!” she insisted as she kissed the top of Aria’s head. She squeezed Aria tighter in her arms, rocking back and forth.

Aria nestled her chin on Mathilde’s shoulder, clinging onto her mother and never felt safer.

“Aria, but I know there is more to this,” she said gently, pulling back to cup Aria’s cheek.

Aria searched her mother’s face before sighing. She knew she had to spill the beans no matter how much she didn’t want to. She closed her eyes as she recited the events - when Henry brought her back to the main castle, her education, her love affair with Henry, the time when she was asked to help train the archers, Philippa’s wedding, the Dowager Queen’s bribe and the war. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she told the elder woman about the recent events - Henry banishing her from the main castle, John taking care of her, the altering potion Henry took, his marriage.

Her heart grew heavier as she spill her heart’s content. Mathilde’s expressions varied from shocked, angry and grim but she didn’t interrupt. She knew Aria had to vomit all of it out to feel better. And that is the only thing she wants, for her daughter to be better.

“…And now he wants to annul his marriage,” Aria finished, clearing her throat.

Mathilde didn’t know what to make of it. She felt angry and protective all at once. Aria had leaned forward, covering her face at the crook of Mathilde’s neck.

“Annul it?” Mathilde repeated as Aria nodded against her shoulder. She didn’t say anything else but continued to stroke Aria’s hair. Her mind was still reeling from what Aria had told her.

“Mama?” Aria spoke as she pulled away. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from all the crying. Mathilde didn’t answer. “Mama?” Aria tried again. Mathilde dragged her eyes away from the duck pond.

“You should have returned to us,” Mathilde muttered.

“I know,” Aria resigned, bowing her head low, letting her hair cover her face. “I should have insisted on it.”

Mathilde made Aria look up and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Doesn’t matter now. We’re here. Are y-“

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Henry apologised sheepishly as he approached them. Both women turned, surprised to find him in the garden. He had adorned a red velvet shirt with leather trousers. A sheathed sword hung low on his waist as his golden hollow crown glinted in the sunlight.

Mathilde shot up and moved in front of Aria, her protective motherly instincts taking over. Aria wasn’t surprised of her mother’s reaction and her eyes darted to Henry and back to her.

Henry took a step back and held out his hands as he came to realise why Mathilde was acting strangely, “I come in peace.”

“Damn right you are!” Mathilde hissed out. Alarmed, Aria rose and reached out to hold Mathilde back. “Mama, it’s alright.”

She ignored her daughter’s plight. “You may be the King of England but it doesn’t give you any right to hurt my child,” she hissed again.

Henry took another step back, arms still held out. “Aria would know that I never meant to hurt her. And I never will.”

Mathilde was about to lash out when Aria worked her away around her and exchanged positions.

“That’s enough,” Aria cried out. She turned back slightly, addressing Mathilde, “Mama, please go back.”

Mathilde folded her arms and clicked her tongue, refusing to cooperate.

“Please Mama. I beg of you,” Aria pleaded again.

She glowered at Henry before yielding. As soon as she was out of earshot, Henry crossed the space between Aria and him.

“I assume that your mother now knows the situation,” Henry said, reaching out to touch her. Aria moved away from his long fingers, ignoring the surprise on his chiselled face. She turned away from him and went the opposite direction.

“Aria! Please don’t walk away from me again. You know th-“

“That you hated it?!” Aria cried as she whirled to face him. “Yes, I’m well aware of it - which is why I did it!”

Henry raised his eyebrows.  _Was she angry that I didn’t stay the night? Or was she angry that I hadn’t visited her?_

“Aria, my love. Please tell me what has changed,” Henry appealed. He knew this was a gamble. Asking Aria what was bothering her was like poking an angry bee hive with a stick.

There was a considerable pause before Aria answered, “What are we doing Hal?”

Henry frowned. He finds it annoying whenever a question is answered with another question. It negates the purpose entirely. However he bit back a retort.

“What do you mean?” Henry asked gently careful not to provoke her further.

“This!” she almost yelled. “Us! What are we doing?!”

Henry was still confused. “Well, we… we’re arguing about something that I have no knowledge of!”

“It’s not funny Hal!” she cried out again, infuriated.

“I wasn’t even jesting!” Henry raised his voice but he suppressed his frustration. Henry crossed the space between them again, grasping her shoulders to prevent her from walking away.

“Aria, please. You of all people should know I need things spelt out for me.”

Aria heaved a sigh and closed her eyes.

“You’re still married H-“

Henry interrupted, “I told you the marriage was inval-“

“Please let me finish…” said Aria simply, silencing him.

Henry nodded, obliging. He was desperate to please her.

“You’re still married,” she repeated. “You can’t just trapeze here whenever you want.”

“What does my marriage got to do with me visiting you?” Henry asked and he wished he could take his words back once he realised what Aria was trying to get to.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Have a care for your wife Hal.”

“She’s not my wife legally, I told you, our marriage is invalid,” Henry insisted.

“She is until the Pope annuls your marriage and declares it invalid.”

Henry took a while for Aria’s words to sink in. And they instantly burst his bubble of happiness. He opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t find his words.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” was all he could muster.

He wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her into a tight embrace. She stood stiffly at first but slacked against him thereafter, burrying her face into the crook of his neck. Henry pressed his lips on her right temple as her arms snaked around his neck. He nuzzled her cheek before planting a whisper of a kiss at the spot below her earlobe that always had her come undone.

Aria fidgeted against him and pulled away. She doesn’t want to be distracted by physical pleasure. Not after what she had just preached.

Henry pressed his right hand at the small of her back and cupped her cheek with left, leaning forwards to kiss her. She kissed him back chastely before pulling away.

“Aria,” Henry whispered, “I’ll make this happen. But things in France must settle down first.”

“You mean after the rebels are defeated?”

Henry nodded. He leaned forward again, pressing his forehead to hers. She reluctantly looked at him. “What will happen to France once you annul your marriage?” she asked nervously.

Henry was stumped. The consequences of the annulment did not occur to him as greatly as it did now.

But he knew he can’t have it all.

“I’d rather lose France than lose you again.”

* * *

John winced as Kymer, the physician, nursed his wounds. Deep gashes were all over his thighs, arms and torso. It was a miracle he survived. After 8 hours of gruesome battle, they managed to trump over the French and the Dauphin like before, had escaped. Unlike the Battle of Agincourt, the English suffered. Their troops were halved and many more severely injured.

“Stay still your highness,” Kymer warned to a squirming John.

“I’m trying to get comfortable on this,” John hissed through gritted teeth. He clenched his fists hard as Kymer plastered a medicinal paste on his wound which stung.

“Comfort is never an option in these situations, my liege.”

John wished the physician offered comforting words instead. He could feel the sear pain as the herbs seeped through his wounds and he squirmed again. Kymer shot John a look of derision as he finished up his dressing and threw the blood-soaked cloths into the basin of water. He packed up and left the prince alone.

“Please rest, my liege. You need time to heal.”

John closed his eyes and wished it was Aria who had nursed him instead. She would have been careful and gentle. He daydreamed of her kind face, brows furrowed as she dap a cloth against his wounds. His mind wondered what it would be if they were married and he instantly felt soothed despite being in a dingy tent with almost half of the city of Harfleur burnt and destroyed.

* * *

Mary De Bohun lay on the cold stone floor of the dungeons, staring at the window at the top of a wall. She could feel her time seeping away slowly.

It has been a week since John had visited her. When he told her he was deployed to France again, she immediately felt the same way when her husband died. Hollow.

She could only kiss him on the cheek while clinging onto him like a child. She didn’t utter a word to him at all. She regretted not saying anything to the only child she could depend on.

And now, she was too weak to move. The food that was brought in for her was untouched for several days now.

There was shuffling at the dark corner to her right but she took no notice of it. However at the corner of her eye, she saw a hooded figure slowly gliding up to her.

Tears of resignation washed her face as memories of her life flashed before her eyes. She knew the time has come.

_Goodbye England._

And she closed her eyes for one last time.

* * *

“My liege?” Westmoreland addressed Henry as he entered the council room. Henry beckoned him to speak.

“I bear with me terrible news.” He hesitated before blurting out, “Your mother, my liege. She drew her last breath this morning.”

Henry’s insides shrivelled up and his blood ran cold. Shock immobilised him. He could only stare at the papers he was looking through.

His thoughts ran wild and erratic. He knew that although he was too angry, he should have visited her at least once. She was his mother after all. Memories of his childhood stabbed into his heart as he was reminded how good of a mother she was despite her recent deeds. He was aware that only John had visited her in the dungeons although he did not utter a word of the visits.

He slowly looked up to his uncle, fear and guilt was apparent in his eyes.

“Do we give her a proper funeral my liege?” Westmoreland asked, nervously.

Henry paused and the longer he took, the longer Westmoreland grew uneasy.

“My liege?”

“Give her a proper funeral uncle. My mother deserves an honourable funeral.”


	24. Chapter 24

_Dear John,_

_I hope you are recovering well. When I was told that you and our troops have won, I was proud of you. This was the first battle you led by yourself and I know it was hard. In fact I heard it was harder than Agincourt. Sir Kymer communicated the injuries you have suffered- although severe, were treatable. That brought relief to me. I need you brother. Not only as someone who is in the council to advise me but as someone to rely on. I know I don’t express much love to you but I love you more dearly than you’ll ever know. I know we have our misgivings towards one another but never doubt that I love you._

_I write to you not only to express my concern but to also deliver terrible news._

_Brother… Mother is dead. She drew her last breath on 4 June. Sir Bradmore informed me that she had starved herself to death. i didn’t get the chance to see her before her death and I regret it deeply. I hoped she found solace with you when you visited her._

_Not to worry. Despite all that has transpired, we held a proper funeral for her. She is the woman who gave us life, the one who cared for us till we reach adulthood. I may at times act ruthlessly but I’ve decided to be a son rather than a king. Like she had requested, she is buried next to Father._

_I’m sorry you couldn’t return in time to say your final goodbyes. I truly am. I did not expect such an unfortunate turn of events. There are several domestic matters I have to resolve and I have sent Brother Humphrey and Lord Canterbury to assist you and uncle Exeter in France while you recover. They will arrive on French within a week. Write to me when you have regained your health._

_Love_

_Henry Plantagenet_

Tears had fallen on the parchment, smudging the ink. John wiped his tears away hastily but his eyes kept welling up. At the corner of his heart he knew his mother didn’t have too long to live but he had always wanted to be by her side when she passes.

Now his intentions don’t matter. He felt sick to his core, as if someone had punched his gut repeatedly. Sniffing loudly, John folded the letter and slipped it back inside its envelope. He winced as he placed letter down on his lap. His injuries were still raw and swollen. The red welts had turned black and blue. Worse still, they were aching and throbbing. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling weary and exhaustion gnawing his bones.

He was pulled into a deep slumber almost immediately, dreaming of his childhood - where everyone was unburdened by the throne, the crown and politics. The entire night John dreamt of having sword fights with his brothers, Mary tucking them into bed, reading them a story and their father playing hide-and-seek with them.

* * *

Aria wrung her hands as Henry told her what happened in France. He assured her that everything was taken care of. One of the best royal physicians travelled with the troops and had tended to John. He survived and just needed time to recover.

She hadn’t thought of John for some time now and she immediately felt guilty when she was reminded of him and of course, his letter.

“I’ve sent Humphrey to assist in the administration of matters. You don’t have worry about John straining himself.” Henry knew how much Aria cared for his younger brother. It made him jealous and possessive but at the same time it pained him and made him feel inferior. And he hated that feeling.

“Thank the Lord. When he bid farewell, I just couldn’t get the worst thoughts out of my head,” Aria said.

“The Lord has been kind to the Plantagenets whenever it comes to battles.”

“So when is John coming back?” she asked timidly.

A part of her wants him to be well but at the same time she didn’t want him to witness this mess she’s in. She wouldn’t know what to say to him either. She could only imagine his despair when he comes to know what Henry had promised her and she doesn’t want to be the cause of that. She knew what it feels like to have her heart broken and she hated it. She couldn’t bear to break his. No, it wasn’t fair to him at all.

At least if he’s in France, he wouldn’t have to witness Henry and her together.

“I’m stationing him there for the time being. The Dauphin may strike again. We have to capture him so the campaigns to the other parts of France can follow,”

Relief swept across her jittery nerves but was followed by guilt almost immediately. She hoped John stays safe.

“Are you sailing to France soon then?”

“Nay. I have to clear this mess we’re in first.” He kissed her forehead, before pulling away, smiling at her affectionately.

* * *

“This decision you’re making, my liege, I hope you have weighed all of its consequences,” Westmoreland said drearily. He rubbed his tired eyes before stroking his white beard, watching the king.

Henry was staring out the window, his back facing Westmoreland – his mind reeling. The night before, he had watched Kate slept beside him. He couldn’t bring himself to touch her and instead he wandered off to the chambers below – where Aria used to call home and slept on the bare mattress. The guards were confused as to why he stayed there but did not question him nor interfere.

As much as he wanted to be a good husband, he couldn’t bring himself to love her. They rarely talked and when they do, they were either arguing or just being polite. She was uninterested in state affairs and there was no common ground where they can leisurely talk. Even when Henry tried to engage her to talk about her childhood, she would babble in French and he would need Alice to translate her tongue to broken English.

Henry didn’t even know what her favourite colour was or which English dish did she like best. It was the complete opposite when it comes to Aria. He knew her like the back of his hand. Conversations come freely and they could spend all night just talking.

He hadn’t touched Kate since they consummated their marriage and although she had made her advances he usually brushed her off, giving the excuse that he was beat. Henry could see disappointment and anguish flashing across her face when he denied her. A part of him wanted to satisfy her for the sake of it but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Sex isn’t just an act or a tool to obtain pleasure. It’s a bond made between two lovers.

Henry wished he had fought against the potion harder. He knew he could have done it if he hadn’t followed his anger.

He slowly turned to his uncle and sighed, his eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.

“Your highness, annulling your marriage means losing France and breaching the terms King Charles had stipulated. I’m afraid once the Dauphin knows, he will-“

“Don’t you think I know that uncle?” Henry snapped. Irritation crept up as his eyes flicked onto Westmoreland’s weary face.

“This war won’t do England any good, uncle. I shall be ready for any consequences that befall me.”

Westmoreland bit his tongue and nodded. Exeter and he had predicted that their nephew’s marriage will end as abruptly as it began. He shifted, leaning his weight on one foot.

“We need to inform the Pope to annul it, my King.”

Silence.

Henry wished the circumstances were different. “Arrange it so, good uncle.”

* * *

“I’m truly sorry Kate.” Henry couldn’t bear to look at her in the eye as he broke the news to her.

She didn’t answer. All of the words were lost to her and she didn’t have the energy to find any. Kate tried to remain composed but her eyes had glistened.

“Are you saying that you married me against your own will?” Kate finally managed, her voice choked. Tears had begun to streak across her cheeks.

“Nay dearest Kate!” Henry grasped her hands. “That potion you found, it made me think irrationally. I shouldn’t have asked for your hand… It wasn’t against my will at all… I-” Henry gently dropped her hands, looking at her through his lashes as he realised he was contradicting his own words.

“I can’t shackle you to me. It’s not fair to you at all. You deserve a man who will love and care for you unlike me… Please forgive me Kate.”

She retracted her hands back before Henry could reach out again. She could see her brothers laughing and mocking her when she returns to France. She could see her parents’ disappointed faces. And she didn’t want to face all that. But worst of all, as the truth sunk in, its knife stabbed through her heart. She was right all along - He never loved her.

“Please leave me alone.”

“Kate, I-“

“Nothing you say right now will make me feel better ‘Arry.”

Henry nodded dumbly. He hated himself for hurting her. But it had to be done. He reluctantly strode towards the door and left the room, leaving his heartbroken wife behind.

* * *

This was the third time that Kate had vomited. Alice hurriedly wiped her mistress’ face with a wet cloth and laid her back down. Her body was dangerously heating up.

She had fallen ill almost immediately when Henry removed himself from their chambers later that fateful night.

“Alice…”

“Oui Mademoiselle.”

“I’m not going to die aren’t I?”

“Ne Mademoiselle! I will not let you!”

Kate let out a feeble laugh at Alice’s reaction. “If the lord in Heaven wants to take me, who are you to stop him Alice?”

“He wouldn’t be so unkind to take you away from me Mademoiselle.”

Kate coughed a cough which rattled her bones. She shook her head rubbing her chest and gave Alice a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was that moment when she realised that Alice was the only one who cared for her.

_Perhaps I don’t have to suffer embarrassment if I die. I’d rather die than return home humiliated._

“Sir Bradmore will be here to check on you Mademoiselle. I pray to the Lord that he has the means to cure your illness.”

Kate didn’t answer. She hadn’t told Alice about Henry’s plans. She merely nodded and let sleep take over her.

Murmuring voices woke her up.

A man and a woman were whispering and it seems that the woman was panicking.

“Alice?” Kate stirred from her slumber, still groggy. Her head was pounding mercilessly, making her nauseous again.

“Oui Mademoiselle.” Alice rushed over to her side, helping her mistress up.

“Mademoiselle, Sir Bradmore has to inform you something important.”

Kate cleared her throat, rubbing her throbbing temples as she beckoned Bradmore to speak.

“Ah, your highness. You are pregnant!”

_Pregnant? No… But ‘Arry only touched me… Once…_

Kate stared at him, still stunned. She was too consumed with shock to listen to his words.

“Mademoiselle, are you listening? You’ve been pregnant for 3 months now!”

* * *

“Pregnant?”

“Aye!”

“But-“

Henry’s mouth snapped shut as realisation hit him. His fingers went cold, his insides shrivelling up as he gripped the sides of the oak table hard. He didn’t thought of conceiving on their first time. He tried to comprehend the situation but he was painfully reminded of his annulment plans.

Does he still want to proceed?

It will be declaring his unborn heir a bastard.

But the Pope is already here.

“My liege?” Westmoreland called out, interrupting his thoughts.

“My apologies for being interrupted, Father,” Henry said, still dumbfounded over the situation.

“I don’t mind being interrupted by happy news!” the Pope chortled.

Henry reluctantly smiled.

“Don’t you want to see your wife, Great King of England?”

Henry gulped and nodded hesitantly. “Please make yourself comfortable Father. I shall return.”

Henry strode to the Eastern tower with Westmoreland by his side. Neither of them talked but both were thinking the same.  _What happens now?_

Henry knocked on the door before pushing it open. It has been 3 days since he stepped into his former chambers. It looked dreary as if all of its glory had seeped away and was stuffy for some reason. The curtains were drawn, dimming the room in the middle of the day. Alice was gently pressing a wet cloth on Kate’s forehead.

“How is she Alice?” Henry asked.

“Sir Bradmore had given her some medicine for her fever. She’s resting now my king.”

Henry nodded stiffly, taking a peek at Kate. She looked small against the bed frame and the thick sheets she was under, made her seem even smaller. It didn’t help that her face was pale.

“Is everything alright?” he asked again. He couldn’t himself to say ‘child’. He didn’t know why.

“Oui. I shall send a guard for you if the Queen needs you,” Alice said, bowing her head slightly.

Henry nodded, acknowledging her. His heart grew heavier as he peeked at Kate one more time before exiting. They were halfway to the council room when Westmoreland broke the daunting silence between them.

“My liege, what now?” Westmoreland asked nervously.

“I’ll inform the Pope my situation. We’ll seek his advice,” Henry stated firmly. Despite his firm disposition, a part of him didn’t want to annul his marriage. Kate was carrying his child - the heir of the throne. His flesh and blood. A Plantagenet.

Henry wasted no time divulging his situation to the Pope once they entered the council room. There were moments where he hesitated but he blurted out the truth anyway. He skipped Aria, not wanting to put her in a bad light. She had suffered enough.

Both Aria and Kate had suffered enough.

“What say you Father?”

The Pope heaved a sigh before furrowing his brows. It was a sticky situation.

“Great King, you were right. Witchcraft did indeed invalidate the marriage in the first place…But… The Queen is pregnant – with your child. That means it is…”

The Pope couldn’t say it. He has no intention to insult Henry nor does he want to further encourage annulment. But the truth is the truth and in the eyes of the Church, Kate was carrying a bastard child if the annulment were to proceed.

“King Henry… In order to avoid that, you must remarry your Queen.”

Henry stilled. He didn’t want to.

“You don’t understand Father, I planned to annul the marriage. This pregnancy came out of the blue.”

“Oh… Uh.. Well…” the Pope’s eyes widened as he stammered, unsure of what to say.

“Bu- but, I must ask why so King Henry? Didn’t you want to marry the Queen in the first place?”

“I told you earlier,” Henry said impatiently, clicking his tongue. “The potion made me think irrationally. It fuelled my anger and I acted upon it.”

The Pope nodded, attempting to understand Henry’s point of view. “Forgive me if I sound rude, Great King, but the queen is carrying your child. You should act responsibly.”

“I am not heartless Father…” Henry assured the holy man. “I shall provide them shelter, care and wealth. But Kate shan’t be my Queen any longer… It’s unfair to her.”

The Pope blinked several times, perplexed by Henry’s request. He was sure Henry kept something from him but decided not to pursue it.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

* * *

“You’re still annulling the marriage even though she’s pregnant?!” Aria raised her voice as Henry told her what happened.

They were sitting in the drawing room at Hadleigh. Aria had refused to bring him in her chambers. At first he was reluctant on letting her know but it seems that the servants had been talking amongst themselves. It baffles Henry how they do it since they are in different counties but he suspected one of his knights must have let it slip to one of Aria’s handmaidens. That was the only explanation. She wouldn’t have asked how far long Kate was pregnant if they hadn’t gossiped.

“How could you do that?!” she cried again, shoving his shoulder.

“Aria. I’ve done worst things,” Henry coaxed, trying to appease her.

“No. This is by far the worst!” Aria folded her arms, disbelief plastered on her face. She had always known Henry to be a ruthless king but not as a man.

“Are you saying that loving you and wanting to be with the love of my life is the worst thing I have done?!” Henry raised his voice. His patience was growing thinner. He wanted to be fair but people kept seeing his faults.

Aria could only look away. “If that means leaving a woman who’s pregnant with your child, then wanting to be with me is the worst thing you’ll ever do.” Her voice was soft, uncertain of the words she was spouting. She was torn.

“So I must care for the happiness of others but ignore mine?! Letting myself fall into an abyss?!”

Aria rolled her eyes at his dramatic outburst. “There’s an unborn child involved,” Aria said exasperatedly. “And it’s none other than your flesh and blood!”

 _This is ridiculous_ , Henry thought.  _Does anybody spare a thought for me at all?!_  He was trying his best to rectify what his mother had done and yet everyone seems to think he had done everything deliberately.

“I’m not denying the child, Aria! I will care for him or her. I just don’t see the point in staying in marriage just for the sake of -“

“SO you’re saying you won’t sacrifice yourself for your own child?”

“Will you stop twisting my words?!” Henry bellowed. His patience was wearing thinner by the minute.

Aria heaved a sigh, realising she had done him wrong.

“I didn’t mean to. But Henry, that is your heir growing inside Kate. Don’t take it lightly.”

Henry rubbed his temples before removing his crown and placing it on the table with a thud.

“You don’t understand. A bastard can’t be an heir to the throne.”

“Even if it’s your own flesh and blood?” Aria asked.  _Ludicrous!_

Henry nodded solemnly.

“What kind of a system is this?!” she cried out. “That is unfair. The child deserves the same treatment as others.”

“I know,” Henry agreed. “Which is why I will provide everything for them - wealth, shelter, care… But… but I don’t want to be tied to Kate anymore.”

Aria’s mouth snapped shut at his words. He looks weary and desperate. She could see how this whole circumstance had taken a toll on him. She reached out to touch him but retracted.

“Does she know of your intentions?”

“Aye.”

They fell silent. Both lost for words. Aria couldn’t shake off the churning in her guts. She could only imagine Kate’s pain. And the cause of her pain is -

Henry grasped her hands and pulled her closer, interrupting her thoughts. He could tell that she was feeling horrible -  _that_  - he doesn’t need Aria to spell out for him. His eyes darted across her crestfallen face before cupping her cheeks, lifting her face slightly to him.

“I won’t forget my responsibilities. I promise.” He kissed her lightly on the bridge of her nose. Aria nodded before wrapping her arms around him, pulling him in an embrace.

* * *

Kate sniffed loudly as Alice patted her mistress’ forehead with a cold towel. Her fever had gone down but it seemed that her body needed more rest.

“Mademoiselle… I must ask – why do you keep crying? Are you feeling any sear pain?”

Kate shook her head weakly. She hiccupped and buried her face into the pillow. She didn’t want Alice to know.

“Then my Queen, please tell Alice what is bothering you. Perhaps I can help relieve it,” Alice said earnestly.

Kate mumbled something into the pillow, muffling her own words.

“My Queen, please…” Alice sighed exasperatedly. Extracting information from Kate when she is upset had always been difficult. One must always offer gentle reassurance and coaxing before getting it out of her.

Kate reluctantly turned her head and sniffed loudly, wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her chemise.

“The King is annulling our marriage.”

Alice’s eyes widened with horror as the words slowly sunk in.

“Ne! Ne! Why?!”

Kate sat up painstakingly as Alice helped her. She burrowed her face into Alice’s headdress as she slowly explained. Alice could only stroke her hair in attempt to sooth her.

But it didn’t.

“But even after knowing you are pregnant with his heir?” Alice pulled away slightly to look at Kate.

Kate covered her face with her hands, still sobbing. “Oui.”

* * *

Kate couldn’t sleep. Even though the room was cool, her chemise clung to her skin and the sheets were causing her to feel claustrophobic. She threw them aside in attempt to feel cooler.

“Ah. Ye’re awake.”

Kate stilled at the unfamiliar voice. Her first instinct was to shout for Alice but the voice was strangely sweet and melodic. Kate wanted to listen to it more despite her fear.

“Who are you?” Kate asked nervously. She couldn’t see the speaker - although she was sure that it belonged to a woman. As Kate sat up, she saw a silhouette of a hooded figure a few feet away from the foot of the bed.

It spoke again. “There’s no need to know who I am.”

Kate opened her mouth to rebuke but the figure moved forwards, revealing its face. The stranger was a woman with an angular face, a pair of pale grey eyes and was stunningly beautiful. Her pale skin was glowing and Kate couldn’t help but be entranced.

“Pity. The King has no idea what he will lose,” the stranger whispered as she traced Kate’s cheek with the tip of her finger. Kate closed her eyes as she felt the stranger’s touch. A single tear smeared her left cheek. It felt strangely comforting

“I know… I know…” the stranger spoke again as she wiped the tear away.

“And you wonder if he will keep his promise to care for you and your child.” Kate nodded slowly as she opened her eyes again, meeting the stranger’s eyes with her glassy ones.

_Is this woman my guardian angel? How does she know all of my deepest fears?_

The stranger pulled away and stood straight. “The House of Plantagenet has never been kind.” Her voice went from soothingly warm to icy cold. Kate didn’t like it.

“Oh my dearest Queen,” the stranger cooed again as if to appease Kate. “I will help you.”

“How?” Kate asked, now convinced that the stranger was god sent. She wanted everything to be back to normal. She doesn’t want to be a single mother.

The stranger smiled at her kindly before extracting a small bottle – the size of a pinkie finger. The potion inside made the small bottle glow. “With this!” she held out the bottle to Kate before entrusting it upon her open palms.

Kate was confused. “How does this help?”

“That will change his mind,” the stranger assured her.

“What if he doesn’t?”

The stranger smiled eerily. “Don’t you worry about that my Queen. You and your child will secure your places in the English royal court once you give this to him. Or is that not what you want?”

“I don’t want my child to be declared as a bastard!” Kate cried out, desperate for her deepest fear to be erased.

“Then you do as I say.”

“But what’s the price?” Kate had seen too many potions and witchcraft in her 21 years of living. Magic always comes with a price.

The stranger seemed stunned for a moment.  _I have underestimated her. She is smarter than I thought she was._

“No need worry about the price. Once you give the potion to him, the consequence that follows it  _is_ the price I am seeking for.”

Kate gaped at the bottle in her hands, not knowing what to say.

“Do as I say, my Queen. You will never have to suffer again.”

“If this… this potion works just like you say it would…. Could I at least know who have helped me?”

The stranger smiled at her, retreating backwards. She was gradually disappearing.

“The name’s Merida, my Queen.”


	25. Chapter 25

The troops had taken over a tavern in Harfleur, making it their headquarters. It was shabby and small but enough to shelter them. They promised the owner gold and peace in return for their hospitality.

Humphrey and Canterbury navigated their way through the cramped quarters. It was filled with knights and soldiers drinking mead, taking a break from their duties. They held their goblets up acknowledging Humphrey and Canterbury who in turn nodded.

“Brother!” Humphrey shouted as he opened the door to John’s scruffy chambers.

He grinned widely as he bent his head down to enter. His smile vanished immediately as soon as John winced, trying to get up.

“No need to hurt yourself, John.” Humphrey held his brother gingerly, helping him to sit up.

“How was the trip?” John asked.

“Same old. Same old. The seas were treacherous but we’re here aren’t we?” Humphrey answered. Even though he was smiling, his smile didn’t reach up to his eyes. John could see that his eyes were bloodshot. He wondered if his little brother had spent time crying over their mother’s death.

“How is Henry?”

“He’s the same…” Humphrey replied almost reluctantly. As much as both of his brothers try to hide the fact that they were smitten with Lady Aria, they couldn’t. It wouldn’t do John justice if he didn’t tell.

“He’s annulling his marriage,” Humphrey said matter-of-factly.

“What?! On what grounds?” John grunted from the discomfort.

“Witchcraft. It’s not official but it’s possible he might just marry Lady Aria right after the annulment.”

John fell silent.  _So she chose my brother instead._

“Brother John,” Humphrey said, not noticing John’s fallen face. “I have a surprise for you,” he said as he beckoned one of the squires to come forward.

“Is it the -” A wide lazy smile carved onto John’s lips as he saw the calfskin canteen Humphrey was holding, momentarily forgetting his sadness.

Humphrey held the canteen near to John’s lips and tipped it. He drank greedily from it, feeling the water wash down his throat as his wounds closed up, healing themselves. His fingers and toes were buzzing with energy as soon he gulped the last drop.

Humphrey let out a satisfied laugh as he watched the scars on John’s face and torso disappearing.

John gingerly touched his once swollen wounds.  _Smooth. Nothing._

He laughed alongside Humphrey. “Well, that was a bloody good surprise!”

Humphrey smiled affectionately as his elder brother. “Welcome back Brother John!”

* * *

Mathilde took a brush from the dresser and began to stroke Aria’s hair. She hadn’t done so ever since Aria turned 16 and she had a sudden urge to do so when she woke up this morning. Aria didn’t object although she thought it was strange. Mathilde had been affectionate lately.

A few days ago, she shooed away the cook from the kitchen for a day just to prepare Aria’s favourite vegetable soup. She constantly checked if Aria needs anything and was always there to give her anything her daughter needed. So much so that Aria started to feel uncomfortable.

But this was different. She loves the way Mathilde brushes her hair. It was soothing for some unknown reason.

“Is the King adamant on this annulment?” Mathilde asked. Her voice was controlled, treading on the sensitive subject carefully. Aria nodded hesitantly. She hasn’t told Mathilde the current situation. It made her sick somehow.

“Well, he is the King. His word is law…” Although she tried to sound nonchalant, Mathilde was obviously being snide. The whole situation wasn’t soothing anymore but it became tense instead.

“Mama, please. We’ve been through this,” Aria pleaded warningly. She had had enough of Mathilde chiding her and trying to talk sense into her.

“I know. But I still…” her voice trailed off. She shook her head and continued brushing Aria’s hair.

“Do you need me and your father in London?” Mathilde asked again. She didn’t like the idea of Aria meeting the King right after his supposed annulment.

Aria heaved a resigned sigh. “Beth will be with me. But if it makes you feel better, you can come,” She wasn’t sure if allowing Mathilde to come along will appease her enough.

“We will come then,” Mathilde reaffirmed.

“I just want you to be happy, sweetheart.” Mathilde locked eyes with Aria through their reflection before planting a small kiss on the top of Aria’s head.

* * *

Kate held the bottle in between her thumb and little finger. There was something familiar about this bottle.

Then it struck her.

Its design was the same as the one that she had snatched out of a young squire months ago. Her insides grew cold as she begun to realise that it was probably the same woman who had given the potion to the Dowager Queen to alter Henry’s behaviour.

_Was this a similar ploy?_

She furrowed her brows at it. She never believed in the greatness of magic but if what that woman told her was true? She might as well find happiness. Eternal bliss.

Kate carefully waded her way through the hallways. Her head was pounding and her feet ached but she thronged on. She was still weak and wanted to call for Alice to do her bidding but it didn’t feel right. She has to do this alone.

She pushed the door to the kitchens open and a waft of sweet aromatic smell hit her nostrils. It smelled delicious. The kitchen was stuffy as usual and the smoke from the fireplace did not help. A few of the helpers were stunned at her presence but continued working with one eye on the Queen. She eyed the servants and spotted the very person that would help her.

“You, boy!” Kate called out.

Lloyd froze as he heard the French accented voice addressed him. He turned around slowly and gulped.

Is he getting a punishment?

Kate beckoned him to come closer as she held a hand to her waist. Her back was aching somehow and her forehead was perspiring from the humidity of the kitchen. When Lloyd was right in front of her, she gingerly bent down and whispered into his ear. “I need your help.”

She hurriedly thrust the bottle into Lloyd’s hands.

He looked down. It was déjà vu. He looked up uncertainly to Kate again – unsure of what she wants him to do.

“Empty the bottle’s content in the King’s food. Understand?”

He felt conflicted. Wasn’t she the one who stopped him from doing something similar a few months ago? And now she wants him to do the same?

“This is for my happiness!” Kate insisted at Lloyd as he slowly nodded.

“I’ll give you gold.” He wiped the single drop of perspiration from his forehead as she hastily reached into her pouch and placed 4 gold coins into his hands.

_The crazy things we do to be happy huh?_

* * *

Henry turned his father’s ring over his finger. It was the same ruby ring that Aria had returned to him when he took her away from her village. He remembered that day clearly. He smirked as he thought of the time he woke her up and she punched him in the nose in return.

That very day, when he fell in love with her, was almost 2 years ago now. He turned the ring over his finger one more time before heaving a sigh.

He knew what he was about to do was cruel to Kate but he had never wanted to be tied down to something he didn’t believe in.

Aria and he belonged together. He has to make this happen.

His heart grew heavier and his guts started to churn as he approached the door to exit Aria’s former chambers. He stilled himself and gathered all of the courage he had before heading down the hallway.

_I love you Aria. And I will never stop loving you._

* * *

Kate was anxious all day. The annulment was to take place this evening. The young squire would have added the potion to Henry’s food this morning. The effect should be visible but so far she hadn’t heard from Henry or anybody else regarding the matter. She paced around her room, uneasy. There were thousands of butterflies in her stomach and her nerves were jittery.

 _I’m doing this for us_ , she thought, placing her hand on her belly.

“Mademoiselle?” Alice’s head poked behind the door. She had a sympathetic look plastered on her face and Kate hated it.

“The King has called for you.”

Kate opened her mouth to refuse but she knew it was futile. She approached the door and let Alice lead her to her fate.

_Did the witch trick me? Why is there no sign of him changing his mind?_

* * *

Aria tapped her feet impatiently. She had been anxious the whole day. Henry had promised to come by this small cottage near London once everything had been taken care of. Mathilde and Beth had gone to inspect the rest of the house, leaving her alone in one of the bedrooms.

She rummaged through her bag and pulled out the few books she brought along with her and placed them on the stand. Settling down on the bed, she picked one, cracked it open and started to read but struggled to even get past the first few chapters. She still had the jitters. She was half nervous, half excited. Today, Henry will be free and they can finally move on.

She placed her book back onto the night stand and decided to pick another. Aria gripped the left side of the stand as she leaned in to take a closer look at the selection she had brought with her. She moved forwards and yelped.

Snatching her hand away from the night stand, she looked at her hand in horror.

A broken nail had pierced her finger, breaking the skin and the blood was flowing dangerously. She pressed her dress to the wound, watching as the blood seeped through the garment.

She applied pressure to the wound, wincing at the sting. A terrible feeling had crept up on her as she tried to ignore the throbbing ache in her finger.

She cried out to Beth, telling her to bring some cloths and medicine while trying to shake off the troubled emotions she was having.

But she still couldn’t even when Beth had dressed the wound and left her alone.

* * *

Henry was wearing his usual red leather jacket, his golden crown atop of his head. The councilmen outlined the room, glancing at one another but all avoided the Queen’s eyes. Henry seemed to be in a deep conversation with the Pope when Kate walked in. Henry turned, meeting her terrified light blue eyes. He felt his heart plummet down and returned his attention to the Pope.

He hesitated and he turned around again, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the cold. Henry held out a hand to guide Kate to her place. She avoided his touch, dragging her eyes from the floor to the Pope.

The holy man knew the woman in front of him was anguished. Her blue eyes were pleading him not to carry this out but it seemed that his hands were tied.

“May we begin?” Henry nodded before eyeing Kate. She wrung her hands, trying to comprehend why Henry wasn’t showing any changes.

_Had she been deceived by that witch?!_

The more the Pope spoke, the more scrambled her mind was. Kate wanted to cry out, to scream in protest but her voice was lost. Tears had smeared her cheeks although they were ignored by the two men in front of her.

“I will now pronounce the –”

Henry cried out, clutching his heart.

“King Henry!” The councilmen shouted, rushing forward to surround him. Kate’s eyes widened with horror as she watched Henry’s legs gave way, eyes bulging from apparent pain.

He crumpled to the floor as his heart twisted, causing him unbearable agony. He felt as if his blood was on fire, shooting excruciating pain all over. Henry writhed against the floor, yelling. He tried to ignore the blinding pain and think about other things to distract him but it wouldn’t work.

He tried to think about Aria and how happy she would be by tonight but Henry was met with more agony. His face had turned red, scrunched up as he tried to breathe.

Kate dropped to his side. “Someone help him! Please!”

Kate weakly gathered Henry in her arms and grasped his clutching fist with her numb hands.

“Ne! Stay with me ‘Arry!”

Henry tried to fight against the pain as it consumed his body. He kicked against the floor as he felt as if a thousand knives had carved through his heart.

_Aria, Aria, Aria._

He opened his mouth to say something but he didn’t. His eyes widened once more as he felt another sharp twist in his chest. It clenched his beating heart, forcing it to stop.

“‘Arry!”

Kate went numb as she watched life seeped away from Henry’s bright blue eyes. His hand that was clutching his heart grew limp, flopping to the ground.

Dead.

_No, no, no…_

* * *

A rapt on the door startled Beth. She gathered her skirt and strode to the door. A knight greeted her through the peephole.

“Lady Baudouin here?” he spoke with a gravelly voice.

Beth nodded. “Yes, and what is this regarding?”

“Open this door. I have to tell this to her myself.”

Beth unlocked the door and led the knight warily inside before calling for her mistress.

“Sir Langley!” Aria greeted the knight as she descended the steps, Mathilde following behind her closely.

Langley nodded at her, his face grim. “Lady Baudouin…” he started, struggling to form the words to deliver his message.

“Where is the King? Is he arriving soon?” Aria asked.

Langley forced himself to look into Aria’s sapphire eyes. “He’s not coming.”

“Why not?!”

Langley gulped. “He – Lady Baudouin, the King is dead.”

Everyone gasped except for Aria.

All of the blood had drained from her face as soon as she registered the words.

_The King is dead._

Moisture has glistened over her eyes, threatening to spill. In that very moment, her world had collapsed around her. Nothing made sense anymore. She had already seen her dreams torn apart months ago and to have history repeat itself again was just too cruel.

When Henry left her all those months ago, it was as if he had ripped her heart out and tossed it aside.

Now? She just felt like an empty shell.

Silence had consumed the entire room, each one not sure of what to do. As seconds passed, the silence became deafening. Beth inched towards Aria in attempt to comfort her but Aria cleared her throat.

“How?” Her voice was choked and was barely audible.

“His old illness, my Lady. Chest pains.”

More silence.

“Sir Langley… Take me to the castle now…”

“Aria, its dark now, wouldn’t be safer to go in the morning?” Mathilde countered.

Aria ignored her mother. “Take me to him please?”

Sir Langley hesitated. “Yes my lady.”

* * *

“Amen,” Kate said as the Pope finished his prayers.

They had moved Henry’s body to the cathedral within the castle. The councilmen together with the Pope shuffled away, leaving Kate and Alice behind. A messenger had departed to France to bring the news to Henry’s brothers. They had decided that the funeral will only be held once they were back on English soil.

Dark circles had appeared below her bloodshot eyes. She was still in shock.

Kate had sat beside Henry’s lifeless body the entire night, not knowing what to do. She couldn’t believe she had been so stupid to be consumed with greediness and trusted a witch. Holding his cold hand close to her lips, she wept, hoping that this nightmare would end.

But it didn’t.

“Mademoiselle, you must rest,” Alice coaxed. Kate nodded wearily and rubbed her eyes.

As soon as they reached towards the end of the cathedral, the doors swung open. Kate and Alice staggered back, stunned by the sudden movement. Two hooded figures appeared behind the door. They stood stock still at the entrance before moving forward.

Aria stood rooted to the ground as soon as she saw the Queen. She had never seen her up close and it was unsettling. Her pale blue eyes met her sapphire blue ones as they pass by each other. She expected to be stopped and questioned but she wasn’t. Perhaps the Queen was too tired.

Kate recognised the woman that the knight had brought in. She had seen her once during her wedding reception. Kate wasn’t sure why she was here in the middle of the night to pay her respect to her dead husband. She was too exhausted to even think about the possibilities.

As soon as Kate and Alice were out of sight, Aria’s eyes laid upon the coffin at the altar. Her heart grew heavier with each step. She wanted to desperately deny the situation but her eyes were preventing her to do so. The wound on her finger throbbed against the bandage, as if reminding her that it had been an omen.

She gingerly ascended the steps, reaching out to the coffin with shaky hands. Gripping the sides of it tightly, she looked down.

There he was – as if in deep slumber. His skin had turned ghostly pale, his lips had darkened.

She covered his hands with hers. A single tear drop smeared his cheek as she bent down to give him one last kiss on the lips. Aria took in a shuddering breath as she pulled away and started to weep.

* * *

There was a mad scramble in the royal council and Humphrey together with Lord Canterbury was brought back to England within 2 days.

As the king had died, leaving an unborn heir, there was a need to have regents to rule over England and France. The debate and countless of discussions took place and it was decided that since Humphrey was more accustomed to domestic affairs, he would be in the regent of England while John the regent of France.

The clouds had darkened, forming a formidable barrier in the sky, only to let a few rays of feeble sunlight slip through it. The cathedral was filled to the brim on that day with many wanting to pay their last respects and to offer their condolences. As soon as the chanting of prayers begun, raindrops started to pound. On any other day the beating of the rain would calm anyone but today it didn’t.

Aria chose to join the crowd as the ceremony began, not wanting to capture anyone’s attention. But she caught the Queen’s eye again.

Kate watched the raven-haired woman from the previous night warily. Something was nagging at her. She had to ask the knight who brought her in last night. Scanning the cathedral, she spotted him and approached him hurriedly.

“You!” She called out to him. Sir Langley was caught off-guard and hastily bowed to his Queen.

“I need to speak to you privately.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

Kate led him to a corner where no one could eavesdrop. With no further delay she started to interrogate him.

“What is your name, knight?”

“Langley, your highness.”

“Sir Langley… Who is that woman you brought in last night?”

Langley hesitated before answering, “That’s Lady Baudouin, my Queen.”

The name didn’t register for her. “Who is she, Sir Langley?”

“She… She was… It’s kind of a long story…”

“No matter. I have the right to know,” Kate insisted.

“Uhh… Lady Baudouin was the one who uh, led the late King to this enchanted spring 2 years ago… The King brought her back here and she was treated part of the family. She even went to war with us. But she moved out of the castle after we returned…”

Kate was puzzled. She had never heard of women going for war. “You mean she was the only one woman at war?”

“Aye!”

Kate turned to eye the said female warrior before turning back to Langley.

Then it suddenly clicked.

Henry was having an affair with her. She was probably the reason why everything happened. Rage started to devour her but then her subconscious reminded that she wasn’t innocent either. If she hadn’t been gullible and naïve, this would have been avoided.

If this woman was capable of being at war then perhaps she can help her track down that witch. Why her and not some other knight? Mostly because Kate could only imagine how painful it is to lose a lover so sudden. It only seems fair if she avenged the death of the man they both loved.

Henry’s funeral went smoothly without any interruptions. By the time the tomb was sealed and moved to the carriage, bringing it to Westminster Abbey, only Aria, Beth and Mathilde lingered behind. Without them noticing, Kate and Alice had stayed behind as well.

They were about to make their way to the doors when Kate cut into their path.

Immediately bowing to the Queen, Aria’s fingers went ice cold.

“Lady Baudouin?”

“Yes, My Queen?”

Kate gulped. She pretended to appear composed as she looked at Aria dead in the eye. The pause between them seemed never-ending.

“I heard about your heroic deeds… I am sure you’re familiar with your ways in the royal court. But… what was your relationship with my husband?”

It was Aria’s turn to gulp.  _Is this a confrontation? What does she want?_

“I… I-“

“No need to explain yourself,” Kate cut her off. She took a shuddering breath before blurting, “My husband was murdered.”

“Murdered?! By who?! Wasn’t it his chest pains?” Aria said, confused and alarmed at the same time.

“He was poisoned,” Kate said. She trembled as soon as the words left the tip of her tongue. “A witch tricked me into it!” she sobbed, breaking down. She couldn’t contain it any longer. Someone had to know. Justice had to be served.

“You were the one who –”

“I didn’t know! She promised me that the poison will only change his mind! I didn’t want to return home humiliated with an unborn child!”

The Queen’s outburst extinguished all of Aria’s anger towards her. Aria realised that she was partly to blame. Had she stopped Henry from wanting to annul the marriage, he would have been alive. She looked down, embarrassed.

But her rage wasn’t all gone. “Who is this witch?!”

“Her name is Merida,” Kate managed barely.

“Merida?!” Mathilde sputtered in shock. All of them turned to face her.

“Mama, do you know this woman?!”

“Why… Ye-yes. If this is the same Merida I knew… We used to live in the same village… This was almost 3 decades ago! She left the village and we didn’t hear of her anymore… She was the one who taught me magic…”

“Do you know where she lives Mama?” Aria glowered. Her pulse began to quicken as she felt the adrenaline rush. This sudden revelation made her furious.

“In the dense forest of Farenbergh. That’s where I last saw her,” Merida said. She wrung her hands before realising what Aria was about to do. “Aria! No! You are not going after her! She’s formidable Aria!”

“You don’t understand! We need to bring her down!” Aria fumed. “How many more victims must she claim before this madness end?! I bet that altering potion the Dowager Queen gave to Henry was from her too!”

Mathilde couldn’t think of any other reasons to stop her daughter. She let out a resigned sigh. “Then at least me bring me along.”

“I’m not going to endanger your life Mama! This is my battle. Not yours!”

“How do you think you’re going to her lair when you don’t even know where it is?!” Mathilde scoffed.

Words escaped her. Aria wanted to deny Mathilde but instead she nodded grudgingly before turning to the Queen.

“We  _will_  find her. I won’t let Henry’s murderer escape the jaws of justice.”

Kate threw her arms around Aria; all of her resentment towards the other woman had dissipated instantly. She wanted the witch gone – so that she and her child can live in peace.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.

Aria returned her embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around Kate. “No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry it had come to this. I promise to bring justice. The King’s death will be avenged, my Queen.”

“Thank you,” Kate managed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust me. I did not want to kill him off. But I had to!


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter for this ff.

Aria decided to head back to Hadleigh and prepare for the journey. Everything essential was back in the castle and she wasn’t comfortable using someone else’s weapons. Sir Langley decided to come along and Aria’s protests fell onto deaf ears.

The moment they stepped foot out of the carriage, Aria ordered Beth to have things in order. Langley gestured that he will be waiting for her somewhere else.

“Are you sure about this?” Mathilde asked nervously as she watched Aria unsheathing her sword. She shot a worried look to Francis who in turn wrapped an arm around her.

“Yes,” she answered after what seems like years. She hastily sheathed the sword and latched it onto her armour. Something caught her eye in the trunk and she picked it up. It was the dagger Henry gave her before they went to war. She wanted to unsheathe it but she was reminded that it was laced with poison. Aria tucked it onto her belt. A dagger can always come in handy.

“I have to do this Mama. You know I have to,” Aria stated firmly, as if assuring not only Mathilde but also herself. She honestly didn’t know what to expect.

“This is not like any bandits or soldiers you have encountered Aria. This is a witch we’re talking about,” Francis said.

Aria raised her eyebrows. Francis had been quiet the entire journey home. “I think I know what she is Papa.”

“You don’t understand. This…woman… she’s capable of a lot of things. If you think the magic I knew was powerful then, this woman’s abilities are a hundred times more,” Mathilde interjected.

As much as she wants to deny it, she has no idea what she was up against. Aria relented, “How do we do this then?”

* * *

Their plan was simple. Trap the witch and Mathilde will do what’s necessary. Francis had insisted to follow but Mathilde objected to it. They argued for a long while in their chambers and after what seemed like hours, Mathilde returned alone to Aria’s chambers, announcing that only she would be accompanying her. Aria wondered what made Francis concede defeat.

“The only way she will die is by burning?” Aria asked, cringing at the thought of it. Mathilde nodded grimly.

“Why do you think they burn witches during witch hunts, Aria?”

Aria shrugged, not knowing what to say. She helped Mathilde up on a brown stallion before mounting on another, steering it to the trodden path ahead of them. She nodded to Langley who agreed to stay behind them and have Mathilde lead the way.

The journey to Farenbergh took a whole’s day journey. Along the way, Aria tried to get more information about Merida but Mathilde was tight-lipped. They stopped near a clearing to take a break.

“Are you going to be quiet the entire journey Mama?” Aria took a swig from her canteen, looking expectantly at Mathilde.

Mathilde shot Aria a warning look. “If I remember correctly, we must climb a hill till we meet a huge rock. There are engravings on that rock. Animals are afraid of it.”

Langley frowned. “Is the rock a barrier?”

“Not too sure myself. Humans could enter but animals refused to. The last time round, my horse almost threw me off.”

Aria was about to ask when was that ‘last time’ Mathilde meant but she decided against it. The sky had darkened as they continued with their journey. After an hour or so, Aria’s stallion started to become uneasy. It started to kick up and pound the ground with its hooves. Soon all three of their horses started to throw tantrums.

“Easy boy!” The horse was clearly afraid of something. Aria steered it away, turning as if to ride towards where they had come from. The horse calmed down but was still neighing.

“We’re here!” Mathilde declared, pointing towards something. Ahead of them was the rock that Mathilde had mentioned. It wasn’t exactly a ‘rock’. It was a large boulder – at least 8 feet tall. Rune inscriptions were carved into its surface and red strings were wound around it. A sudden chill ran through Aria, making her shiver. They dismounted their horses, securing the beasts to a nearby tree.

Aria unsheathed her sword, gesturing to Mathilde and Langley to stay back as she walked towards it.

“Don’t touch it!” Mathilde warned.

She treaded carefully around the boulder, sword held in front.

“Mama, it’s safe, you can come now!”

Silence.

“Mama?!” Aria shouted. She turned back and all she saw was a never-ending maze of tree trunks. Mathilde and Langley were nowhere in sight. Panic rose as her heartbeat quickened.

“Langley?!”

She ran back towards the boulder and collided against the transparent barrier. Aria wielded her sword against it but nothing happened. “Mama!” she screamed, hoping Mathilde would hear her. She pounded her fist against the transparent wall but it didn’t budge.

“Aria Baudouin. Such a pleasure to finally meet you in person I must say.”

Aria froze. The voice was strangely sweet and made her want to listen to it more. She gripped the hilt of her sword tightly as currents of fear ran through her body. Aria turned slowly towards the voice.

“What are you trying to do my dear girl?” Merida taunted, “Are you going to kill me?”

Aria gulped. It was impossible to think that this beautiful woman in front of her was a witch. She was covered in white from head to toe; her light blonde hair framing her stunning face. But there was something sinister about her – as if all of her appearance was just a façade.

“What happened to not wanting to be a murderer anymore?” Merida said with such sweet false pretence that was revolting. Aria stood, rooted to the ground, stunned.

“Oh, changed your mind fast eh? Why? Is it because of your dead lover boy?”

“Don’t!” Aria snapped.  _She’s just trying to break me down._  She had gripped her sword so hard that her knuckles had gone white. Rage was consuming her entire being as she watched Merida smile eerily at her.

“Ooohh… Touched a raw spot didn’t I?” Merida grinned as she leaned forward to hiss, “Look at you…the daughter of Melody and Jacque Baudouin trying to avenge for her loved one… How…  _very_  romantic…”

Aria’s insides shrivelled up as soon as Merida mentioned her biological parents’ names. “How do you kno-“

“Oh, my dear girl. I know everything about you… including your parents…” Merida interrupted, “Especially your parents,” she continued darkly.

“What did dear old Mathilde tell you about how they died? The plague?” Merida let out a screeching laughter, enough to chill one’s bones. “No, no.  _They. Were. Burnt. To. Death_.”

Aria’s eyes widened with horror. “You’re lying,” she managed. Somehow it made sense why her parents had no graves…

“Why would I lie to you now?” Merida drawled, clearly enjoying this. She saw how Aria clenched her jaw as soon as the insult left the tip of her tongue. She leered in return.

“To think about it, everyone is just caught in this huge web – You, the royals, your parents… and I.”

Merida let out a short chuckle, throwing her head back before shooting Aria an icy look. “Let me tell you how the story begins… It all began with the Dowager Queen. Dowager Queen Mary wasn’t a noble… Oh she never was. She was just plain old Mary. When her parents died from the witch hunt, my family took her in. Then one day during the witch hunt, when she left me to die…she tricked a noble family to take her in. ‘Changing her fate’ that’s what she claims,” Merida said haughtily.

“So naturally, I had to get back at her… And that was taken care of,” Merida smirked.

“Mathilde together with your parents found me, took care of me. In return I taught them magic. But your mother was exceptionally bright! So gifted. I thought she could be my apprentice… but your father just had to hinder her talents… It was only years later she found me again. By that time she was heavily pregnant with you.”

Merida grinned again and moved towards Aria. Aria instantly moved backwards, sword still in position. Merida threw her head back and laughed, as if to ridicule.

“But her practice was found out and your father just had to be romantic to ‘save her’ and they end up dying together…” she clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, as if disgusted.

“So…” Merida cocked an eyebrow up. “Are you going to be like him?”

“My father died an honourable death!”

“And you’re going to follow his footsteps?!” Merida leered. “Like father, like daughter… The apple didn’t fall far from the tree… On second thoughts, it made so much sense why you and that lover boy of yours deserve each other. He too followed his mother’s footsteps. Not as crafty though… it’s funny that he kept insisting that his actions were to ensure everyone’s happiness. Not everyone was particularly happy…. His mother used the same excuse to alter his feelings for you. Look how  _that_  turned out.”

“Shut up!” Aria cried. She didn’t want to listen anymore. Crying out, she charged forward.

Merida waved her hand and Aria’s sword flew out of her hand. She halted as she watched the weapon clang onto the ground, out of reach.

“Not feeling confident without your sword eh?”

Merida flicked her hand again, this time lifting Aria up above the ground. She made a choking gesture, leering as Aria coughed.

She flailed against the invisible force that was choking her, kicking her legs against thin air. All of the horrible memories when she was choked by Eneos 2 years ago came flooding back – causing her to panic more. Her windpipe started to clench close, making it difficult to breathe. Aria felt her eyes roll back, her fingers going numb…

Then she was dropped.

Aria groaned loudly as her back slammed itself to the ground. She coughed, gasping for air. Paralysed with pain, she couldn’t bring herself to rouse up. Merida clicked her tongue as she loomed over.

“I wasn’t even planning to hurt you at all. But you’ve threatened me. You left me with no choice.”

She knelt beside her, holding a silver dagger right above Aria’s chest. She grinned again, baring her teeth as she plunge the dagger down.

The dagger clattered against Aria’s armour as Merida’s eyes widened with horror.

Merida looked down to her navel and saw blood gushing out, seeping through her white dress. A single dagger protruded from the wound, as the poison seeped through her veins.

“You left me with no choice either,” Air spat.

The barrier around them dissipated. “Aria!” Mathilde screamed as soon as she caught sight of the two of them.

Merida and Mathilde locked eyes, both recognising each other but too stunned to respond.

“Mama! Now! Light her up now!”

Aria’s voice snapped her back to reality. Mathilde held her hands up; chanting the very incantation Merida had taught her all those years ago. Sparks began to crackle in Mathilde’s palms and soar towards Merida.

She shrieked as her white dress caught fire, burning through the material and scorched her skin. She tried to conjure magic but the poison was weakening her. More sparks flew towards her and soon flames engulfed her body, spreading their boiling rage. The wild fire refused to be tamed as Merida writhed, shrieking and screaming in pain. The flames grew wilder and wilder by each second.

Soon, the flames leapt high into the night sky licking the edges of the dark sky, leaving nothing behind but dead silence.

* * *

**Epilogue**

_Dear Aria_

_Things in France had been calm ever since the Dauphin was killed by his own men. As tragic as that may seem, the situation here has become much more bearable. Without his leadership, it was far easier to control the cities. However there are still many of his followers left. There is still a need to keep a look out at all times._

_I apologise for boring you with details of this turmoil, for l have nothing else to talk about. How are things in England? I heard Humphrey’s wedding with the Countess of Hainaut went smoothly. I tried my best to be there but we were stalled by a rumour saying that the Dauphin will make his advances towards Paris during my absence. I couldn’t afford to let that happen. I couldn’t afford to let France slip through our fingers after all that we’ve been through._

_The council expressed their concern over the Dowager Queen. Rumours had it that she was courted by one of my cousins, Owen Tudor. He had always been a smooth talker unlike me. Truth to be told, I’d rather have her remarry. It didn’t make sense to me why Humphrey had objected to her marrying Edmund Beaufort in the first place – probably because he sees our cousin as a threat. I’m sure you have seen dear Edmund around. He is quite a brute, standing at almost 7 feet tall – of course again, unlike me. I am a midget if I were to be placed beside him. But jokes aside, if she does remarry, I’m sure Humphrey wouldn’t be pleased. But then again, it is hard to keep anyone happy nowadays._

_Well, I hope all’s well in England for you. Write to me soon._

_Love_

_John Plantagenet_

This was probably the third time I read John’s letter to myself. His letters and words always had their own way of comforting me whenever I felt lonely and missing him terribly. John had been writing to me regularly. At times I would receive 3-4 letters per month. It was his way of saying that he hadn’t forgotten about me – that he still has my best interests at heart. I missed him – his laughter, our banters, our friendship – All of it.

It had been 2 years since that fateful night. 2 years since Henry died. 2 years since I killed Merida with Henry’s dagger.

I have since made peace with his death. I haven’t spoken to Kate ever since the day I returned to the castle to deliver the good news. Merida’s ashes were scattered in the sea. My mother said it was to prevent from any resurrections – which witches are capable of. Her death was celebrated and I was awarded wealth and stature in return despite my protests.

Humphrey had also offered me a place in the council which was opposed by many. I figured that I wouldn’t have fared well in a room full of men and would have caused chaos if I were to accept. He then presented me with the very castle I am living in as a token of gratitude, saying that it was the least that he could do.

Although to me, all of those didn’t matter. All that matter was that justice was served and hopefully Henry could lay in peace.

I folded John’s letter neatly and place it back into its envelope. It was a beautiful day in spring. A day where the sky was blue, birds were chirping and a light breeze was blowing. I was sitting in my favourite spot – the bench in the garden, facing the duck pond.

“Lovely day isn’t it?” a voice said coming from behind. I recognised it and instantly smiled. I could hear the crunching of the grass behind me before the owner of the voice plonk down beside me on the garden bench.

“Let me guess, you weren’t stalled by a rumour this time?” I said before turning to face my visitor.

John grinned before shrugging. He was clad in his usual navy royal shirt, his hair swept to the left. He stared ahead at the duck pond before turning to face me.

“Your guess is indeed correct, my lady.”

“Why didn’t you say you were coming back?” I held out his letter to him, pretending to be annoyed.

John bowed his head, as if ashamed. He looked through his lashes before answering, “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

I snorted. “It’s a good one to be honest. But it lacks…”

“What does it lack?” John raised his eyebrows up, his arms mirroring them. “Did you expect an entourage of knights lining up announcing my presence?”

I rolled my eyes at him for being melodramatic. “No… And no need to mock me Plantagenet.” I swatted him before beaming at him.

“I’m not…” John said softly. John locked eyes with mine and I felt my heart skip a beat. His eyes had always looked kind and shy but now they look strangely seductive. I giggled again, not used to this. I was just overwhelmed with joy that he’s back – that he was sitting beside me, bantering like nothing had happened.

We may not look a day older than the day we first met but we have grown so much. I felt John covering my hand with his. He gently held it up before kissing the back of my hand softly.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered against my skin.

“And yet you never once mentioned that in your letters to me.”

I watched John’s eyebrows knit together. “I thought it would be better if I said it out loud…to you… face to face…”

My cheeks burned – I was lost for words. He grinned at me again.

“Remember the very first letter I wrote to you?” John asked gently. I nodded, feeling slightly guilty.

“I’m keeping my promise, Aria.”

I froze.  _Is he…_

John shifted and knelt on one knee in front of me.

When it finally registered what he was doing, I could almost hear the angels singing. I couldn’t help myself but grin like a loon. John returned my smile and held my hand in his.

“Aria Baudouin, when I first made you laugh and smile 4 years ago, I thought to myself, I would want to listen to that laughter for the rest of my life. I would want to see your beautiful face smiling at me every day till my last breath.” He paused to kiss my hand again before placing it close to his cheek. “2 years without you was torture. The cruellest torture I have ever suffered. The thought of spending my life without you is just unbearable.”

He paused again and took in a deep breath. “I love you. I love you with every fibre of my being and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

Tears had clouded my vision, forcing me to blink them away. “Damn you, Plantagenet,” I muttered, trying hard to hide my smile. “And you dare say that you’re not a smooth talker!”

John chuckled before pressing his lips to my skin again.

“Well then, my bravest and most fair Aria… will you do me the honour of being my wife?”

Tears had choked me as I cupped his cheeks, leaning forward. I pressed my forehead against his before nodding. John’s eyes had glistened too, as his hands covered mine. He broke into the widest grin reaching up to his eyes, lighting them up.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I managed before kissing his lips.


End file.
